Broken
by UmPaDee
Summary: Hermione and Ron break up in the aftermath of the war. Depressed and lonely, Hermione develops some dangerous coping mechanisms. Can Ron save her before it's too late? Warning: ED, cutting, Dark. Read&Review. Just posted the sequel: Fix Me
1. Broken Hermione Preface

**Hermione's Preface**

_Banana, Oatmeal. Fat. Fat._ Hermione cringes when she thinks of the breakfast that her mother forced her to eat this morning. _Now I'll get so fat. _She looks in the mirror, to see dozens of inexistent rolls of fat. Do her thighs look like cottage cheese? Her stomach is huge! Is that a double chin growing? Oh God! She needs to get this food out of her, now.

Her feet turn toward her bathroom. Her hand claws open the door. Her knees bend in front of the toilet. Her mouth opens wide. Her finger gets shoved down her throat. 1… 2… _Out… Out…_Then it comes out, her teeth clamping down on her knuckles seconds before. Tears stream down her eyes, and the gruesome smell of vomit perfumes the air. She wipes off her fingers and her mouth, quickly flushing the toilet afterwards. She doesn't want to see it anymore.

She washes her hands, gargles some water, and casts a few spells to erase the damage. Still, her face is blotchy and her eyes piercing red. She looks in the mirror. Who is this girl that she sees? She can't even recognize herself.

Hermione Granger is a smart witch, a kind witch, a pretty witch, a brave witch, and, even, a popular witch, but she is not a happy witch. Because in Hermione's eyes happiness in one self-means that one has to be perfect, and she is far from perfect.

And that's why she diets. To be a little closer to perfection. It started off innocent enough. She gave up junk food, started counting calories and working out. If she'd known back then that it would turn into an obsession she wouldn't have started. But now she's thankful. She likes having control over her weight. She likes the stability. She likes the order.

As Hermione takes one last look around her room, she catches a peek of the gorgeous sunset kissing the city of London. If it were an ordinary night she would take the time to watch the sun illuminate the city's classic architecture with its magical array of pinks, oranges, blues and purples. But today is anything, but ordinary. In a matter of minutes she will be hugging her muggle parents good-bye for the year and heading off towards platform 9 ¾.

Hermione knows she has one last thing to do before heading off to Hogwarts. She opens up her bottom dresser drawer and pulls out the box that contains the evidence of the only meaningful relationship she has ever had. She suppresses her tears as she opens the lid to see pictures of Ron and her, the bracelet he gave her for her birthday, and the massive amount of letters he had written. Everything that reminds Hermione of Ron is in this box, and it's the hardest thing for her to take out her wand and make it all turn into a pile of ashes. This is her final attempt at closure, her final attempt to heal the whole in her heart, the unresolved loneliness.

_Don't cry,_ her brain yells at her tear ducts, _crying is a sign of weakness. _But Hermione is weak; tears began to parade down her cheeks like it's the fourth of July. Once they have started she can't stop. Flashbacks to his terribly romantic confession of love and the power of his illuminator, turn her heart to mulch, but became overshadowed by her most recent memory of him.

_Ron was blubbering in her arms about Fred, "You wouldn't understand. You don't have siblings."_

_They were both terribly drunk and had taken to Diagon Alley to try to melt away their sorrows with the company of Harry and Ginny. It was a typical teenage thing to do, but none of them had the opportunity for such an act of deviance before. The last seven years of their lives had been focused on defeating Voldemort to some extent to another. And now they were free, free from you-know-who._

"_I know," Hermione said, "But I suppose Harry's like my brother, and I don't know how I could survive if Harry died."_

_Ron turned to her, a glare in his eyes. "Yeah, it's all about Harry isn't it?"_

"_What?" Hermione gave him a quizzical look "That's not what I meant Ron?"_

"_You think I'm stupid?" Ron barked,he definitely had too much to drink. "It's all about Harry… Harry this… Harry that… At my own brothers damn funeral it was all about Harry. And then when I'm trying to just talk, f***ing talk to my girlfriend, you have to bring up Harry."_

"_Oh Harry," Ron continued, mimicking Hermione's voice, "I know if Harry died, I couldn't survive. At least Harry didn't die. I'm so close to Harry. Harry's my best mate. Harry is so smart. You should ask Harry. What do you think Harry? I love Harry. Harry's so cool- Harry- Harry-Harry- Harry"_

"_Ron," Hermione tried to prop him up on her shoulders to take him back to the burrow, "I think we better get you home."_

_Ron sneered, "See you don't even deny it. You love Harry. You love Harry."_

"_Ron," Hermione shook her head. She had been aware of Ron's jealousy, but the way he mistrusted her was almost hurtful. "I love you, don't be silly."_

"_You think you're so smart, and kind running around knowing everything, always doing the right thing," Ron laughed, "But then you go cheat on me with my best mate."_

_Hermione felt tears roll down her cheeks, "Is that what you really think of me Ron? Is there anything else you want to share with me." _

_"Yes, there is actually," Ron's words were beginning to slur, "You know how yesterday you asked me if you'd gained weight? Well you have. I don't like it. You're beautiful, but you've gained weight. It's not that I don't love you. But, damn, you did cheat on me. You cheated on me. You cheated on me with my best mate."_

_"I never cheated on you," Hermione put her hand on Ron's shoulder, "You know I love you."_

_"Get your hand off of me," Ron looked away, wincing at her touch. Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to do. _

_"I didn't cheat on you, "Hermione cried._

_"I can't even look at you," Ron said standing up, "I can't even look at you. They're right, you're just a cheating mudblood."_

_"I can't believe you," Hermione was bewildered, "Do you realize what you've just said?"_

_"We're over," Ron said coldly, "It's over. Go off and be with Harry."_

_Hermione stormed off, leaving a drunken Ron to reiterate events in a not-so-accurate way "Hey Harry guess what? Hermione just broke up with me. Yeah, she told me that she actually likes you. I think that one's had a little too much to drink" Hermione couldn't turn back, tears were already in her eyes and her heart ached too badly to see Ron's red-headed face again. Hermione wasn't surprised when nobody wrote during the summer, except to reprimand her behavior. And even then, she couldn't write back though, she couldn't explain. _

_But she didn't care. It would be the summer of self-improvement and nothing was going to get in the way. She lost 30 pounds; Ron would never be able to call her Fat again._

"Hermione," Her dad's warm and comforting voice bring tears to her eyes as he gives his little girl a hug. "Are you sure you can't stay longer? Can't Hogwarts wait for another day?"

Hermione laughs, unsure of how to respond. She feels like a horrible daughter, leaving her parents after that awful year. She had put them in danger, and abandoned them to fight battles that weren't hers. In return, the very people she risked everything for had decided to ditch her after Ron's drunken rage. _Karma. I deserved it. _

Sensing her daughter's discomfort, Mrs. Granger intercedes, "We're only kidding dear. We want you to go off and finish you're education." A bittersweet smile flickers across her face before her eyes fall over her daughter's shrinking figure "But, are you sure you don't want dinner before you leave. I can always call Chinese or we could go out to your favorite Italian restaurant or…"

"It's alright mum, really. I don't want to miss the feast." This is guessingly untrue. Hermione is dreading the feast and has plotted over ways to deter eating or avoid it all together. But the lie serves its purpose, because she notices that it is enough for her parents to give off a little sigh in relief. _Whatever makes them happy._

"All right then, but make sure to write. We're expecting to see that owl of yours quite a bit."

"Of course," Hermione embraces her parents, "I'll write loads."

"Oh, my baby girl," Her father pulls her into his arms. He still feels guilty over forgetting his daughter, even if it was the by-product of one of her magical spells designed to protect them. "I can't believe this is your last year."

"I'm afraid so," She says. But Hermione notes in her head, that she should already be finished. If Voldemort and his death eaters hadn't have stolen last year from her, she'd be getting a job at the ministry right about now, still close with her old group.

"Yes," Mr. Granger's tears are flooding his voice, "And just think my little girl…"

Hermione laughs, "I love you, dad."

"I love you, too."

Mrs. Granger's lips curl with pride, embracing her perfect daughter in her hands. Never, has a mother been so proud. "Take care of yourself. I know being head girl might be demanding, and studying for N.E.W.T.S may be stressful, but promise me you'll try to relax a little bit after last year."

"I will," She rolls her eyes before catching a glimpse of her watch, biting down on her bottom lip. "I guess it's time."

"Good bye dear," Both parents cry, "We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Hermione looks back at them and takes a deep breath. She promised herself she wouldn't cry, and if there's any chance of fulfilling that promise, she needs to get out of there now. "Bye!" And with a hint of magic she's gone, leaving her parents to another year alone.


	2. Broken Ron Preface

**Ron's Preface**

He spent all summer trying to forget her, but it never happened. Instead he'd fall asleep with her picture, realizing that he lost the best thing he had, once again, to Harry Potter.

Sure, he forgave Harry, because he could never stay mad at Harry for too long. And they were mates for life, with a bromance too strong to fall apart over a girl, even if that girl was Ron's soul mate. Besides, Ron has to admit: it's not Harry's fault that Hermione loves him. But every time he looks at Harry, he wonders what he has that Ron doesn't. He's jealous and bitter, and that's an inevitability which is understandably justified.

He wants Hermione back. He wants her to apologize for making fun of his hair that night. He wants her to tell him she loves it, that it's one of her favorite things about him and it's much better than Harry's dull brown hair. He wants her to tell him she loves him and not Harry. But he knows it won't happen, so he spent all summer trying to convince himself that he despises her. He bad-mouthed and complained about her to all of his friends and family, and it worked. Soon they all began to hate her for being the cruel girl that ripped Ron's heart out and stomped all over it. And, even though he knows it's bad, it makes him feel just a little better, like some sort of consolation prize.

He shakes his head, trying to contain the tears that always emerge when the memory of that night over takes his thoughts.

_Ron was crying in her arms about Fred, as she sipped on a particularly strong libation. "Hermione, why'd it have to be him? Why him?"_

_Diagon Alley was full of mourners and antsy partiers who'd been unable to relieve their stress during the times of Voldemort. But now they all were free, free to do as they please and celebrate their victory. And for once, the DA would have reason to celebrate while also having reason to mourn. And so they took to the drinks as first timers, never having been privy to such an act before._

"_I don't know Ron," Hermione smiled, "But at least Harry's alive. He nearly died."_

_Ron turned to her, a glare in his eyes. "Yeah, it's all about Harry isn't it?"_

"_What?" Hermione gave him a quizzical look "It's true. Harry could have died, Ron. It doesn't matter who died, the main point is Harry's alive and safe because…"_

"_You're kidding right! So you're saying that if I'd died, you'd be fine as long as Harry lived."_

_Hermione blushed, "I know if Harry died, I couldn't survive. Harry's my best mate. And I mean really, Ron. He's smart and I love him."_

"_What?" Ron's face contorted, "Like a brother right, you love hime like a brother. Because you love me."_

"_No," Hermione laughed, "I love Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry!"_

Ron _tried to prop her up on his shoulders to take her back to the burrow, "I think we better get you home."_

Hermione_ sneered, "See you're so pathetic. You can't even- Do you think I'm fat? Am I so big you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"_

"_Hermione," Ron shook his head, still distraught over the Harry thing "I love you, don't be silly."_

"_You didn't say no, you think I'm fat." Hermione felt tears roll down her cheeks, "Is that what you really think of me Ron? Is there anything else you want to share with me." _

"_No," Ron said. "That's not what I meant. I love you. But, damn, do you really love Harry? Do you love my best mate? Because, I thought I was just paranoid about what's going on there, but is it true."_

_"Yes, actually," Hermione said, words were beginning to slur, "I don't really love you Ron. I just put up with you, you're just my second choice. I mean look at you're hair Ron it's revolting. I could never love anybody with hair like that."_

_"Get your hand off of me," Ron looked away, wincing at her touch. Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to do. _

_"I didn't cheat on you," Hermione cried._

_"I can't even look at you," Ron said standing up, "I can't even look at you. I was right_

_"I can't believe you," Hermione was bewildered, "Do you realize what you've just said?"_

_"We're over," Ron said coldly, "It's over. Go off and be with Harry."_

_Hermione stormed off, leaving a drunken Ron to reiterate events. He couldn't run after her, tears were already in his eyes and his heart ached too badly to see Hermione's beautiful face again. Hermione wasn't surprised when nobody wrote during the summer, except to reprimand her behavior_

Then he looks out of the train window from the stuffy prefect's car and sees her, the perfect girl. Just then Ron knows that even though he shouldn't, he wants her back. He misses her too much.

_Hermione had been drunk that night_, Ron reasons. The whole conversation was so uncharacteristic of her. _She was just drunk, not thinking straight._ And if she apologizes and wants Ron back, he'll have her. He'll definitely have her. But her words still bother him, so he won't throw himself at her. Not till she apologizes.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1** - Hermione

Platform 9 ¾ is full of Hogwarts students prancing around in their school robes, saying goodbye to their families and reuniting with their school friends. But Hermione will have none of it.

Hermione's fingers curl around her gothic style trunks as she boards the Hogwart's express. For the first time, in her life as a Hogwarts student, Hermione is not excited to return to the castle she used to call home. And it takes everything she has to not abandon the train and apparate back to her house

She doesn't want to be reminded of that bloody battle that rattles her nightmares. She doesn't want to be surrounded by all that great food from the house elves. She doesn't want to be around people for every second of every day. She doesn't want to see Ron or any of her old friends who now hate her for reasons she cannot understand.

Her heart begins to take on a furious beat as she realizes that at any minute she could see their faces. _Just get out of the hall and you'll be safe. _Hermione begins to scuffle to the prefect's car with her eyes intently focused on the ground.

Hermione is relieved to reach her destination without being confronted by anyone, but she makes one mistake. She forgets that the very boy she's avoiding is a prefect.

Her heart skips when she sees his face- Ron.

Hermione's face blushes as her eyes evaluate the changes that have taken place over the summer. His hair had grown a few inches and is more disheveled than usual. It's become a richer red, as if that were possible. He looks like he's been in the sun over the summer, and he has obviously been working out. _Quit it,_ Hermione tells herself, _You're over him, remember?_

But Hermione is far from over him. Her heart flutters at his sight and her eyes can't help but fixate on his own. Despite her best attempts to turn away, she can't. He's too irresistible.

"Hey Hermione," Hannah Abbot smiles at her. Hermione's eyes are interrupted from their Ron fest.

"Hey Hannah," Hermione sits next to the Hufflepuff, thankful for the distraction, "So you've returned to Hogwarts as well?"

"Yeah," Hannah nods her head, "I miss my mates, and besides how far can you get without your N.E.W.T.S.?"

Hermione continues to talk with Hannah, trying to avoid Ron and his smoldering glare. But it's useless, she has to leave. "I should probably go do rounds."

"Well, alright then," Hannah smiles at her encouragingly, "Congratulations on making head girl!"

"Thanks," Hermione smiles, looking down at her head girl badge before leaving the cart. But, as the doors swing open behind her, she realizes that Ron is following along.

"Hermione," He looks almost as pained and embarrassed as herself, "Your head girl?"

She turns around. She'll be friendly and polite. After all, if she's strong enough to turn her most precious remnants of her past into ashes, she can be civil to him, "Yes, I am."

"Oh," Ron looks up at the ceiling of the train, unsure of what to say next.

Hermione bites her lip as her eyes fall onto his own head boy badge. "So we're both heads."

"It doesn't mean we're going to have to see each other that much, right?" Ron shifts his weight. Seconds later, Hermione does the same. She doesn't realize she's following Ron's every move.

"No," Hermione quickly agrees. She doesn't want to appear uncomfortable, but her rushed reply only highlight the awkward nerves in the situation "Just at the meetings and, even then, we can make them short."

"Right," Ron agrees hesitantly. "But it's not like I don't want to see you."

"Of course not," Hermione nods, once again biting the inside of her lip to signal burst of pain. It was enough to distract her from the animosity and painful memories that flooded this conversation.

"I mean we're going to have to see each other."

"We are," Hermione follows suit, her heart racing.

"So we might as well be friends?" Ron asks his voice timid and frightened.

"Friends?" Hermione looks down at the floor, "Yeah, that'd be a good idea. Friends."

"Right," Ron says, turning back around.

"Right," Hermione repeats, but she is only responded with the slam of the prefects' car door. She strongly doubts it will be easy for them to just forget their history and move on, but what else are they supposed to do?

Weak from confrontation, her legs feel like jelly under her weight. She has to sit down, or she is sure she will collapse. But before she has a chance to relax and recompose her energy_, H_ermione stands up. She has to do her duties as head girl. She has to make sure there aren't any problems. She is going to do this job perfectly. _And maybe I can burn some calories from walking around._

She moves through the cars, at a rather fast pace despite the feeling of hunger pains and light headedness that try to persuade her to sit down and have a sandwich. Hermione keeps going. She breaks up three potential wizarding duels by a group of immature 2nd year Slytherins, who, she assumes, had probably gotten away with it during the prior year. She hands out one detention to a third year couple who are getting entirely too inappropriate for anybody's comfort. Hermione is on a roll; she was born for the job.

But then she comes across Harry, Ginny, Luna and Neville laughing together. She opens the car doors. "Is everything alright in here," she asks anxiously, wishing she had skipped this one.

"Yes," Ginny makes eye contact with Hermione. Her stern voice is cold and unfamiliar. Hermione doesn't know how to respond to her old best friend's lack of a welcoming spirit, "It is."

"Good," Hermione nods her head, ready to leave. She gives them a half-hearted smile that is entirely too long to be authentic.

"Wait," Ginny looks all too confrontational for Hermione's comfort, "Even if you're head girl, stay away from Ron. I don't think he can take seeing you much, after what you did to him?"

"What I did to him?" Hermione's voice gets high, but timid, "I didn't do anything to Ron."

"Calling him a carrot top sidekick, telling him he'll never be as good as Harry, breaking up with him days after his brother died. You hurt him, Hermione. He would've died for you, but all you wanted was to break his heart."

"I did no such thing," Hermione's face contorts in confusion and anger, "He was the one who called me fat and inferred that I was cheating on him for no understandable reason when I was trying to comfort him. He was the one who called me a mudblood. He was the one who broke up with me. He broke my heart."

"Ron would never call you a mudblood," Ginny stands up, "And why would he broke up with you; he was thinking of proposing to you."

"I'm not a liar," Hermione says, "But I suppose you all think I am. I love his hair, I think it's one of his best physical traits. And I know how sensitive he is about competing with Harry. I remember our time in the woods. Why would I ever say anything to remotely compare him to Harry? I loved your brother until he broke up with me and insulted my loyalties to him."

"You're telling me Ron was lying?" Ginny looks skeptical.

"I'm telling you he was drunk," Hermione's voice is sullen and tentative. She knows her words need to be chosen carefully; she knows that any future possibility of resolving the conflict depends on this moment.

"So were you," Ginny tilts her head, as to provoke an answer.

"Fine, you lot go on believing Ron," Hermione has a tear strolling down her eyes, "But I think you've heard the wrong story."

"Just to make sure, you're not in love with me?" Harry tries to lighten the room. Hermione shakes her head 'no'. "That's what I thought."

Ginny turns back at him in surprise, "So you believe Hermione."

"Ron was pretty smashed that night," Harry shrugs his shoulders, "And so was Hermione."

"So?" Ginny asks, "Ron wouldn't lie."

"Well, maybe they were both too out of it to know what really happened," Neville offers, no longer the docile boy who sat back to watch life occur before him. He's an active participator in life now that he has the confidence; he had the right to be after he killed that basilisk.

Ginny's face turns red; she shrugs past Hermione, "Where is Ron?"

Moments later the whole group is sitting in the car monitoring the debate between Ron and Hermione over who said what and who broke up with whom.

"Ron," Hermione smacks her lips together, "Why would I break up with you?"

"Why on earth would I break up with you after I spent half the year trying to get you back after I left?"

"I don't know maybe it had something to do with me being a fat mudblood?"

"Yeah right," Ron rolls his eyes, "I'd never call you a mudblood. Or fat. "

"Are you calling me a liar?" Hermione is fuming, forgetting any of the composure she had.

"You're calling me one," Ron says

"You said those words," Hermione says.

"No I didn't," Ron shakes his head, "But that's you, perfect Hermione. Why is that you have to always play victim? I'm always in the wrong?"

"I didn't do anything Ron," Hermione cries, "You did. I was just trying to comfort you and then-

"Why can't you just admit that you told me that you're in love with Harry, that I'd never measure up and that my red hair was revolting?"

"Because I would never say those things Ron," Hermione cries, "I don't think them."

"Well I don't think you're a fat mudblood," Ron says staring at the floor, "And I know I didn't call you those things."

"So it's settled then," Ginny cuts in, "Neither of you meant anything that you said. Everything that night was irrelevant."

"No," Hermione shakes her head, "That night was definitely relevant."

"Yeah," Ron makes a snide remark, "It was the night you broke up with me."

Hermione swallows, "You broke up with me."

"Did either of you want to break up?" Ginny interrupts.

Both answer with a profound "No."

"Well there's your answer. Isn't it?" Ginny, Harry, Ron and Luna exchange looks of triumph, "It's simple. You two can get back together."

"Actually," Hermione shakes her head, "It really isn't all that simple."


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** -Ron

Ron can't help but stare at the bushy haired girl sitting in the back of the Potions classroom. She looks tired and sick, like she's been suffering from the flu for the last month. He wants to ask if she's alright, but they aren't close anymore and every attempt he's made of drawing her in has backfired. He's afraid to hear the resentment in her voice.

The truth is he misses Hermione. At night, she plagues his dreams. But, when he wakes up, the realization that they're broken up makes it feel like he's awoken from a seductive nightmare. When he sees her in the common room, in class or during their head boy/girl meetings, his heart stops. He wants her; he needs her.

And he loves her.

But at the same time the bitterness of their argument still clouds his vision. The words she had said to him are nearly unforgiveable, and he can't just give in. And, the worst part, the part he can't bear, is that apologizing would mean admitting he said those horrible things to her, and Ron knows he never would do that. He couldn't hurt Hermione, even after she'd hurt him.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor Slughorn mutters in his bumble of a voice.

"Eh?" Ron looks up. He hasn't been paying attention at all.

"What potions can you make from adding Bugleweed and Arachnid's blood?" Slughorn asks rather impatiently. Even if Ron is now a member of the revered slug club after his involvement in the defeat of Voldemort, he can still tell Slughorn is far from impressed with him. He doesn't care; he doesn't want to be part of that guy's bragging list.

"Ergh…"

"What about you Ms. Granger?" Slughorn looks eager. If there is any student he can rely on to succeed and make him look good it's Hermione, she's a bona fide genius. But a moment of pause, makes Ron look at her. Why isn't she answering?

She looks stressed and confused like she hasn't been paying attention, but was thinking about something far more important and pressing. Knowing Hermione she's probably stressed about N.E.W.T.S.. _Typical Hermione_, he chuckles to himself, _it would be just like her to be more stressed now, worrying about her exams, than she was when we were running for our lives trying to save the Wizarding world._

"I- I don't know sir," She says with a panicked look plastered on her face like a startled deer. A murmur of shock floods the room as they all realized the brevity of this situation. Hermione Granger doesn't know the answer to a question.

"Well surely, you do know," Slughorn paces the room slowly with disbelief.

"I really don't," she continues to insist.

"Points from Gryffindor," Pansy Parkinson prods. Ron glares at her; every Gryffindor does and even some Slytherins. Nobody has forgotten her eagerness to hand over Harry at the Battle of Hogwarts last year.

"Yes," Slughorn looks defeated, "I suppose this is shameful that none of your house can answer this OWL level question. 5 points from Gryffindor."

The Gryffindor students turn their glares to Hermione. This is what they rely on her for. "Wait," Ron stops, "Isn't it the know-it-all potion?"

"Yes," Slughorn smiles hesitantly. He hates when he's wrong about students, he's always admired his ability to pick from the crème of the crop in students and see them blossom into valuable connections. Hopefully it isn't too late to get the Weasley boy.

"Shouldn't you have known that one?" Pansy Parkinson mocks Hermione from the front row.

Ron's worried about Hermione and as class goes on, he notices that she doesn't answer a single question. This shouldn't worry him to much, but when they start brewing the potions, she messes hers up to the point where it needs to be thrown out.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" Harry asks under his breath.

"Don't know," Ron says quietly.

"Think we ought to talk to her?" Harry asks.

"So she'll lecture me again?" Ron frowns, "You go on ahead."

"Maybe we better not," Harry mumbles as he saw the sight of a fuming Hermione. She looks like she's about to yell at the next poor soul to wonder into her path.

"Are you alright?" Neville asks nicely to Hermione, like an innocent mouse walking carelessly into a rat trap, "Do you want any help?"

Hermione's face turns bright red, "I'm not stupid, Neville," She barked, "I don't need_ your _help." Hermione's face turns bright red at the realization of her own behavior "I'm- I'm sorry Neville. I didn't mean- I just-."  
>Neville shrugs it off, "It's fine 'Mione. Don't worry about it."<p>

Ron has never seen her get so angry before, and over something so harmless and obviously caring. His eyes examine her once more. Her hair is longer and fell in perfect waves. Her lips are as luscious and alluring as ever. But something about her isn't right. Upon closer look, Ron notices the way her cheekbones are far more prominent on her thinning face. He noticed the loss of color in her cheeks. He notices the weary look in her eyes. He notices the way her robes hang against her body like she barely exists. He notices the way she moves like she's in pain, notices the facade of her polite smile, in response to the encouraging words of her classmates.

As the week passes, it grows more and more obvious that Hermione is far from her usual self. Something is bothering her. She falls asleep a few times in McGonagall's transfiguration classes and one of Flitwick's actually useful Charm's classes. He notes that her papers are barely satisfactory, and professor's tut at her inability to answer the questions when called upon. The worst are the quizzes, which are given lower marks than Ron. It's unbelievable.

Something is wrong with Hermione. Ron knows it, and he's going to find out what it is. He has to.


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3** – Hermione

A glint of a smile appears on her gaunt face. Her eyes twinkle at the touch of pain, as she forces the knife deeper into her skin. The pain doesn't feel good per se, but at least she feels something, something other than the feelings in her heart. Those feelings are no good, so she has to block them out. If she didn't, Hermione wouldn't be able to bear it. She wouldn't survive. She has other methods too, but cutting is different all in itself, with a wand her wounds can disappear. There are no consequences for her brilliantly bloody bath of self-misery.

Hermione feels the blood begin to rise to her skin; the pain beckons a new high. It's sharp and ghastly. And heavenly, very heavenly. Hermione drops the knife; there is no point in going to deep. Hermione doesn't want to die, not yet.

Blood drips from her emaciated wrists as she closes her eyes. Taking a deep breath in, she soaks it all up. The pain is good, like hunger pains. Hermione laughs, she knows she's crazy, but is she really? Is what she's doing really that bad? _No_, Hermione licks her lips, _I'm' fine, absolutely fine._

She waves her wand and the blood vanishes, the wound heals. There will be no scars on her arm except that of Bellatrix's handiwork. She'll never be able to get rid of it, no matter how hard she tries. The goblin made knife's wounds will not fall victim to magic. It's there, permanent, never ending. And so the word, _mudblood_ is engraved into her skin like a branded cow

Hermione takes a deep breath. She really shouldn't freak out so much over gaining a half-kilo. No, she decides, she should be doing something productive. She needs to stop reacting to her weight, and take control. She grabs her running shoes and laces them up. Sure it's one in the morning, but she'd never fall asleep anyways. She's had insomnia ever since…

Hermione mentally slaps herself. She will not think about that. Not now. And if somebody finds her outside, she can just say its head girl business. Hermione smiles, she does love the perks of her prestigious position.

Hermione's 3 hour run was productive, but exhaustive. She feels as if she could collapse at any moment. She calculates the calories burned. She'll be conservative. Maybe 900? That's good, she thinks, but half a pound is 1750. She needs to runs three hours more, today. Hemione sighs this is so much work, but it's nice to have control over something in her life. At least she can manage to do this.

Then she hears his voice, "Hey, you!"

She turns to see a certain ginger with a shiny little head boy badge on his chest. Upon seeing her he looks curious and all together relieved. "Oh, Hermione," Ron sighs, "It's only you."

"Yeah," Hermione rings her head for some sort of excuse. She's so stupid. She hadn't accounted for Ron being on patrol, and he knew that she had no business being out here.

"So ummm…. What are you doing out here?" Ron fakes an uneasy smile.

"Ughh… I…. I… think I was sleep walking."

"Sleep walking?" Ron raises his eyebrows to Hermione's discomfort. She's normally a much better liar with much better excuses, but sleep walking isn't too far out there. He shouldn't be so skeptical. "You sleep with exercise clothes and sneakers on."

She feels her heart beat a little faster. She lies all the time, so why is she so nervous lying to Ron. Why does she feel guilty? She shouldn't. She's not doing anything wrong, and besides she doesn't owe him anything, including the right to the truth.

"I'm a highly functional sleep walker."

He props up his eyebrows once more and gives her a flirtatious smile, "Sure."

Hermione shakes her head and breaks into a smile, "I couldn't sleep."

"Mhmm…" Ron grabs her hand, "Completely normal. You went jogging at three in the morning."

"It's relaxing."

"It's insane."

Hermione knows she won't get in trouble, Ron wouldn't do anything. She knows it. She thinks it.

"Seriously Hermione what were you doing?" Ron prods. Hermione almost chokes. He's not buying the truth?

Hermione smiles and bites her bottom lip, "You'll never know."

"Awww… Come on 'Mione," Ron whines, "I'm not doing anything and you're breaking curfew. Tell me."

"No…" Hermione laughs, walking back to the fat lady's portrait. For a moment she is happy. For a moment her world seems okay. For a moment she can picture a rekindling of romance with Ron. But then she remembers that her life is definitely not okay and that happiness doesn't exist.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4** – Ron

Ron stares at the girl he loves from the Gryffindor entry way.

The lights of the Gryffindor common room are dimly lit. It's completely past curfew and only him and Hermione are still awake. Her lips are trembling with fright, her cheeks are flooded with tears, and her hair falls over her face like a mask, trying to disguise the person beneath it.

"You okay?" He asks her, returning from his turn to patrol the hallways. Her body leaps at the sound of his voice. She thought she was alone, but apparently not. "Hermione?" Ron moves closer, his glossy red hair tussled into a mess.

"I'm fine," She says weakly, not turning to look him in the eye. Instead her eyes are intent on the two pieces of paper. One's a letter from her parents. The other is a plain piece of paper overwhelmed with red marks, and a simple _I know you can do better than this. I'm very disappointed._

It isn't hard for Ron to detect the lie. He sits next to her on the coach, his eyes scan over the two pieces of paper that sits on her lap. One appears to be a letter; another is to his surprise, a failed quiz. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing," She rolls her eyes, "I'm just really stressed."

"You want to talk about it?" He's trying to be sensitive. He's trying to be somebody who she can rely on.

"Not really," She shakes her head. _Failure_. It isn't hard to realize that Hermione's worst fear is being recognized.

"Are you sure?" Ron asks, "You don't seem like yourself lately."

"So?" Hermione flicks her head away with a sassy, defiant look, "People change."

"I'm worried about you," Ron says blatantly.

"Why?" Hermione says.

"I never see you around anymore," He frowns.

"You saw me an hour ago," Hermione clasps her eyes shut. She looks embarrassed. Like their encounter earlier was something to be ashamed of.

Ron huffs, "You're failing classes, Hermione, that's not like you. You seem overly stressed. And to be honest, you look sick."

"Thanks, Ronald," She says in a sarcastic voice.

"That's what I mean," He says softly "You snap at everybody. It's like your permanently PMSing."

Hermione clenches her jaw. Ron realizes he shouldn't have said that, but it's the truth.

"It's just," Ron takes a breath, he will swallow his pride. One look at Hermione and he knows he has to apologize for something he is sure he didn't say, "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I don't think I said those things this summer, but if I did I'm sorry. I never meant them. You're the most amazing person I've ever met. You're beautiful, kind, and incredibly intelligent. Nothing that I said that night had any truth in it."

Hermione stares into his eyes, "Leave me alone Ron."

Ron tries not to gasp. He's hurt; he really wants her back, but she doesn't want him. He misses the old Hermione. He needs her. But he won't give up, not yet, "No."

"What?" Hermione chokes.

"I made that mistake once; I'm not making it again." Ron says.

"What do you mean?"

Ron gives Hermione a resilient look, "It was torture this summer, dealing with Fred and then the heartbreak of losing you. I barely survived. And by the looks of it your summer was pretty self-defeating as well. I miss you Hermione; I never got over you."

"Well…" Ron prods as Hermione gives him a blank stare.

"It's not that I'm over you Ron," Hermione says, "It's that we just aren't meant to be."

Ron feel like a tear is about to fall from his eyes, but he holds it in. Boys, especially Gryffindor boys, don't cry. He knows she's wrong. They're meant to be together, they always were and they always will be. They're soul mates, and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. "I'm here for you 'Mione," He says as she begins to walk away, heading towards the girl's dormitories. "So if you ever want to talk…"

He doesn't finish, he doesn't have to. Hermione knows what he means, but she doesn't care. She doesn't need him. She doesn't need anybody. She is completely self-sufficient, resilient. Her feet slowly drag beneath her frail figure, carefully hidden under her school robes. Suddenly she feels a wave of dizziness sweeps over her. Used to this, she ignores the sign and continues up the creaking steps.

Giving up, Ron slumps his shoulder and begins to return to his dormitory. But just when he thinks he is finally over Hermione, he hears a stumbling crash.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5** – Hermione

Hermione's eyes slowly open, she feels weird, really weird. Where is she? The common room?

"'Mione?" Ron says. She feels sick as she notices the red haired boy; her eyes are fixed on him. The recent memory of their confrontation makes her grimace. _Fainting_? _How could I let myself do that? Weak. Weak. _

"Hey," He says, trying to get her attention again. Her face blushes red. She's embarrassed.

"Ron?" She asks still woozy from the long sleep. "What happened?"

"You fainted and fell down the stairs," He says, "Don't worry. You'll be alright now."

"Mmmm…" She smiles peacefully, "Sorry…"

"Its fine," Ron wraps his fingers around hers. She returns the favor. She likes the way it feels. "You don't need to apologize. I'm just glad I was around when it happened."

"I love you," She says without thinking

Ron laughs "You're out of it. Aren't you?"

"Tired," Hermione shuts her eyes. She isn't really out of it. She knows exactly what she's saying; she does love him. She just seems to be incapable of filtering out her thoughts at the moment. She'll just have to pretend she never said those words when she wakes up completely.

"We should probably get you to the hospital wing?" Ron says picking her up. Hermione's eyes open wide, she panics. No! This will not happen.

"I'm fine Ron," Hermione bites her lip, "I don't need to go to the hospital wing. I promise. I'm just so tired. I swear. I don't need to go to the hospital wing."

She's glad when he agrees. After all its four-thirty in the morning and she still hasn't fallen asleep and she did have patrol last night. It's a perfect excuse, and, Hermione thinks, _the truth. _It doesn't even dawn on her that it's from not eating all day. So, it's easy for Hermione to simply convince him she just needs some valuable zzz's, because it makes sense and it isn't exactly a lie.

Hermione sleeps for a while, but is awaken by the smell of steak, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole sitting in a tray in front of her.

"Hey," Ron says to her, as soon as she wakes up. She panics, why is Ron in her room? And why does he have food?, "You hungry?

_Yes._ "No," Hermione feels her hands sweat. Her heart takes on a furious beat. "I feel really sick." She frowns and makes a nauseous look, moving her hands onto her stomach.

"Maybe you didn't have enough to eat," Ron says. He looks so sickeningly sympathetic like he has pity on her. Hermione can't bear it.

"I think I have a stomach bug," the lie comes rattling out with a truly natural air, but Ron seems skeptical.

"What did you eat yesterday?"

"I don't know. A lot."

"Still, you should probably try to eat something," Ron smiles at her. She loves his smile; it always turns her to mush. "You've been out for awhile."

"Fine," Hermione says. She already has a plan, she's done it a few times to her parents this summer when they were getting suspicious. "I'll try." Hermione eats every bite; she relishes the tastes and squirms with the idea of fat rolls appearing on her belly. Why does everyone always try to get her to eat? Does the whole world want her to be _fat_?

When Hermione finally convinces Ron that she's fine and he can leave, her first destination is the bathroom. She moves towards the porcelain white toilet bowl, prepared to do the unthinkable. Her hands pull out one of the Weasley twin's most notorious inventions and chokes down a puking pastille to see the contents of her stomach revealed. The relief is like poetry, pure and simple.

Hermione knows this is wrong. It's one thing to skip meals; that's fine. But making oneself throw up just produces guilt. Eating then purging is a path she is determined not to take, but if it comes to it she'll be more willing to waste the food then become_ fat_.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **_- _Ron

The dining hall is overfilled with eager students laughing and hanging out with their friends over dinner. Everyone at Hogwarts is there, everyone except Hermione.

Ron feels himself boil over, as he slumps into the seat, angrily chewing away at the brussel sprouts in his mouth. Why won't Hermione talk to him anymore? He's done everything to win her back. He's let her off for being out past curfew, they flirted, he apologized, he showed he was reliable, he was acting really sympathetic, he took care of her when she fainted, and he even brought her up dinner. So why was she still giving him the silent treatment? He at least deserved some forgiveness.

"What's wrong with him?" Ginny scoffs a little, gesturing at Ron.

"Hermione," Neville says.

"Of course," Ginny mumbles, grabbing Harry's hand as he sits down, "Harry, tell Ron to stop being a twat and just go talk to her."

Harry shrugs his shoulders, "I just saw her out for a jog on the quidditch field if you want to find her."

"She's always running," Ron moans, shoving his head into his arms, "I don't get it."

"It's called exercising, Ron," Ginny laughs, "Some people can't eat like you and stay fit."

"Well if you ask me ," Ron groans, "That girl doesn't need to run anymore. That's probably why she fainted- overexhastion."

Ron turns red as he notices that the very girl they were discussing has just walked into the dining room; it's the first time, he'd seen her there since the great feast, come to think of it. "Speak of the devil."

Harry turns his head, to catch a glimpse of his old best friend. He quickly waves her over. "You don't mind Gin, right?"

"No," Ginny smiles, "Not at all. I don't trust a word my brother said about that night."

"Hey!" Ron says, kicking Ginny under the table, "I swear that's what happened."

"Not now Ronald," Ginny shoots him a glare.

Hermione walks over, looking unusually anxious.

"Hey 'Mione," Ginny says, "Sit with us. We never see you around anymore."

"Oh I've just been really busy," Hermione shifs uncomfortably. Ron can tell something's wrong with her. In fact he knows it. "In fact I have a meeting with McGonnagal, so I should probably get going."

"Meeting's not for an Hour," Ron says in disbelief that his dear Hermione had just lied to them all, "Sit."

Hermione sighs looking up at the ceiling, Ron looks at her. There's something really off about her, but no matter how hard he tries to figure it out, he can't. "Sorry," she whispers, "It's um- see, I ugh- I already ate." Then she graba a water and an apple, shoving past a first year to bolt away.

"Odd," Ron shakes his head, "There's something strange going on with that girl."

"You think ?" Harry shakes his head. Ron sighs. At least he's not the only one who sees it.

"But what?" Ron and Harry think for a moment before Ginny sets in.

"Maybe the fact that you two have been such wankers to her."

"Nuh-uh," Ron speaks, mouth full of pumpkin pie, "Remember, I was the one who apologized and stayed with her when she fainted."

"Yeah," Ginny says, "But have either of you have spoken to her besides that incident, at all?"

The two look at each other, red in the face, especially Ron. It isn't his fault, not at all. He's sure of it. He'd apologized to Hermione, sort of. And he had that conversation, and she walked away. Not him.

"You three were always so close, don't throw it away over some stupid fight," Ginny says. _Maybe she's right._ Ron and Harry exchange looks of defeat. They'll make it right with Hermione. They will and then everything will go back to normal, just like it used to be.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7- **Hermione

She can't faint again if her secret is to be kept hidden. Hermione rolls over onto her stomach after 10 crunches. _Nobody would understand, because nobody understands me._ At first Hermione wanted to be perfect. Perfect marks, perfect boyfriend, perfect looks, perfect personality… But then something changed. She began to fail. And if she can't have the rest of it, she can at least have the perfect body.

She wants to be skinny. That's all, nothing else. But she has to eat something. It isn't so much that she can't stand the pain, but more that she's starting to feel dizzy. Today she'll have to concede to that awful feeling of hunger, or she will faint again. And that fact infuriates her.

Hermione hates this. Why does she have to eat? It's so stupid. She quickly chops up an apple into about a bazillion pieces. _You'll get fat._ Hermione whimpers. I'll just eat half. _50 calories._

A quarter. 25 calories.

Hermione throws most of it away. If she eats the pieces slowly, she can trick her brain into feeling fuller. She can savor the food with less calories. Hermione smiles, she's a genius.

Hermione puts a tiny piece in her mouth. She savors the taste taking 50 bites before swallowing. _One… Two… Three…_

She continues on and on, it could take hours.

Then she hears a voice from her doorway. "How long does it take you to eat a freaking apple?"

Hermione jumps. "How long have you been there?"

"Just a few seconds," Harry says, "We wanted to know if you'd want to come to Hogsmeade with us."

Hermione wants too, but part of her is afraid. Getting close, means being vulnerable, and Hermione can't deal with all that pain again. "I don't know. I'm behind on my coursework."

"Please, 'Mione," Ron begs, giving her those eyes that she's never been able to deny, "We never see you anymore. I miss you."

_Haven't you learnt by now that I'm not your friend anymore._

"Please," Ron begs.

"Maybe some other time," Hermione looks absentmindedly away.

"'Mione, please."

"Fine."

To Hermione's surprise she has the best time she's had in months. Somehow, Harry and Ron make her feel like they're still close, just like old times. They joke around, and laugh all afternoon, strolling through the streets and shops like they're on top of the world, occasionally stopping to sign the occasional autograph or take pictures with adoring fans.

"It's like we're celebrities or something," Hermione laughs, "It's so strange."

"I'm used to it," Ron flashes his dazzling smile and grabs her waist, pulling her into him. For a moment it startles Hermione, not because of how he did it, but because of how right it feels. "Just stick to me and you'll learn how to deal with the paparazzi."

The three laugh, before strolling into a new restaurant that had opened up upon Voldemort's demise. It's apparently the new "it" place to eat. But all Hermione cares about is how insufferably sick it makes her feel to be in this sort of environment. How can she get out of this?

The waitress is impeccably beautiful, and Hermione swears she saw Ron checking her out. Hermione examines the waitress and feels triumphant when she decides the woman had fat ankles and a bigger waist than Hermione.

It still doesn't make Hermione feel any better when another, far skinnier girl walks in. Hermione wishes she could be that skinny, or, even better, skinnier. She wants to be the skinniest girl in the room. The one that everyone looks at, and says 'I wish I could be like her.' She wants to be fabulous, and she knows if she eats anything she'll be giving up.

"The roast beef is really good," Ron says.

"I'm a vegan now," Hermione beams

Ron shakes his head, "That's what I admire about you, you care so much about everyone else. You're so nice to everyone. Even to the animals."

Hermione blushes at Ron's uncharacteristic sweetness, diverting her gaze to the menu. She prays that she can swindle her way out of this. She doesn't want to become fat. Hermione begins pulling at her sweater. She can't find anything, and she's relieved.

"Aren't you hungry?" Ron asks.

"Not at all." Hermione fakes a smile, watching as they relished each bite of food. It's partly enjoyable to be around all the food she misses, but it also has an element of torture. Hermione could laugh. _Torture_- she knows what real torture is, and this is hardly it. Hermione snaps a rubber band against her skin. _Stupid, don't break down now. They're already suspicious._

Walking back to Hogwarts, Hermione keeps feeling as if she's about to collapse. She's completely exhausted, and she can't figure out why.

"I'd thought you'd be in better shape with all those runs you take," Ron laughs.

"You're such a twat," Hermione snaps, while Harry swats his best friend across the head. "Didn't your mom ever teach you to never call a girl fat?"

"What?" Ron looks uncomfortably panicked, "No, you're taking this the wrong way. You don't look out of shape, you just seem exhausted. You look great. You don't look fat. If anything, you look too skinny."

Hermione refuses to believe him, and the trio continue their journey in silence, until Ron and Harry turn to see Hermione collapsing to the ground.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8- **Harry

Harry watches Ron rest his face on the window in their dormitory, as the rain drizzle onto the quidditch field below. "We should have made her go to the hospital wing."

"She said she was fine," Harry stares at his best friend. He knows what its like to not be able to be with the person you love. He's been Ginny-less for the past few hours, and he doesn't know what to do with himself, "She didn't want to go."

"We should have made her. Something's not right with her."

"She's probably tired." Harry gives his friend a reassuring smile. "She probably just needs some sleep."

"Yeah," The ginger frowns,"But I'm worried about her. She keeps fainting, and she's not herself, and she doesn't like me much anymore, and I miss her, and she's gotten so skinny, like you could break her, and she won't let me in, and-"

Harry chuckles lightly, listening to Ron droll on about how much he cared about Hermione and all his observations. Hermione just needs to sleep; she'd reassured them that she was okay. She'd promised them, but then, as Ron kept speaking, the pieces started falling in place.

Hermione fainted twice. She didn't eat today. She hadn't eaten in the dining hall at all since the start of school. She's looking kind of freakishly skinny. The obsessive running, the way she ate the apple, her decline in marks, the way she freaked out at Ron about his comment. It's all starting to make sense. And, judging from Ron's face, he's thinking the same thing.

"You don't think?" Ron turns pale.

"I don't know," Harry can hardly breathe.

"Hermione's so smart, she wouldn't do something so stupid."

"Mhmm," Harry agrees, but, still, he wonders. "She wouldn't."

"We'll just make sure she eats tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"But it's probably nothing."

"Yeah."

The two sit quietly in the room as an awkward silence falls on them. A ghost of worry whispers haunting thoughts of guilt into their ears. How could they let this happen? No. It's not true. There is nothing wrong with their Hermione. And she is their Hermione. She belongs with them; she's part of them. She's theirs and they're hers. It had always been the case, and, Ron and Harry prayed, it always would be.

Ron notices a figure running around on the quidditch field. "What loon would run in this weather?"

Harry smiles at the lightened mood, looking over Ron's head to see the form of girl jogging in the rain. As she comes closer and closer, they realize that the girl is none other than Hermione Granger.

"She wouldn't," Ron's jaw drops, "Why would she run in this weather, and after she just collapsed? Maybe it's not her, it can't be."

"No," Harry refuses to believe it, "Hermione's sleeping. But-erghh- we should check on her, anyways. Just to make sure she's feeling better."

"Right."

The two rush down the dormitory steps to the common room, and then up to Hermione's own sanctuary, only to be greeted by an empty. "Maybe the hospital wing?" Ron is desperate for consoling. His Hermione could not be-

"Probably not," Harry looks down at Hermione's notebook, "Ron come look at this."

_**Apple (50) Rice Cake (30) Lettuce (100) Orange Juice (80)**_

_**3 hr run , 100 sit ups, 10 crunches x 6, 50 steps, 100 jumping jacks**_

A four letter word falls from Ron's mouth.


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9- **Hermione

Hermione knows that she should get up and go to class or go for a run, but she can't find the energy. _What a lazy cow_. Instead Hermione buries herself into her bed; tears fall from her eyes like Niagara falls. She can't help but remember that Ron had called her fat last night. She doesn't want to be fat. She can't. She won't let herself. But then just like that it happens. And suddenly her weight is the last thing on her mind. Bellatrix's cruel voice appears and a searing course of pain overwhelms her body, so reminiscent of the real Crucio curse that she'll cry for hours afterwards.

Hermione cradles herself in the fetus position, trying to prevent herself from going hysterical during the traumatizing flashbacks. She hates the memories, the fear, the blood and all the death, but what really broke Hermione was the memory of the Crucio curse. She can't stand it. She can't stand to remember the torture and to realize that she wasn't the only one who Bellatrix was going to perform it on. It was a killer; she wished for death. During the curse, she… It was bad, all those delusions… And that one with Ron.

Hermione throws up, unwillingly. Her head swirls; she can't even stand thinking about it. Suddenly her body convulses, as she remembers Bellatrix's face and her wand shooting out the curse. The way the words sound in her head is like hell. Hermione understands how people end up crazy after the attack. Her heart weeps, how had all the other victim's survived. She knows Neville had been the victim of the curse numerous times, but how did he handle the crucio curse, knowing it was the same curse that drove his parents mad?

She stops; she suppresses her body's urges and her mind's terror. If everyone else can deal with it, she can to. She has to. Motionless, she grabs the knife she keeps under the pillow she knows what she had to do to stop the mind attacks. She presses the knife against the raw skin on her fingers, tracing the planned cut.

A smile creeps on her face; all the pain in her stomach will be outhwarted in moments. She jabs the knife into her upper forearm and watches as it protrudes the skin, sending a euphoric burst of pain throughout her body. She makes zigzag motions across her arms. It calms her, soothing all of those memories' thirst with a drought of physical pain.

Delicious. The blood welling up from the skin is a sign of more pleasure to come. There is no need to think of hunger or Ron now that she is hypnotized by her body's own form of self injury.

Not crazy, hmm? She shuts her eyes. The old Hermione is always creeping unto her. She's concerned, scared for her life. But this new Hermione, the skinny, beautiful one shuts her down in moments. She knows what's important in life, and one of them is not being viewed as a freak. So she simply can't tell anyone. Talking means feelings, and Hermione is really no good at that.

She bites her lip as she pulls the knife away from her skin. It's like a melody, pure and beautiful. Hermione chuckles to herself. Perhaps she is crazy, but does it matter? At least she isn't fat. Then Hermione looks at her legs and remembers what Ron said. She's so huge. She can't help but throw up and cry; even the pain can't stop the voices inside her head from freaking out over this.

As the pain softly concedes from its typical sharp collateral, she uses a spell to repair the wound, leaving no trace of her insanity. It's brilliant.

Hermione lies in bed the rest of the day. It doesn't really matter if she misses class because, in all honesty, she would have failed whatever they were doing anyway. She's just trying to get some sleep before her head girl rounds tonight. She smiles at the thought. Maybe she does have some control.

Mid-way through the afternoon she hears a sudden rapping at her door. Her heart skids, who is it? But Hermione doesn't have time to answer, instead the door busts open, revealing a very pleasant surprise. Hermione's eyes dart from one of the boys to the other, examining the way they step forward. Their eyes furrow in worry and their gait is cautious but strong. "Hey, Mione," Her best friend sits on her bed.

"Hey Harry," She answers meekly, a sense of uncertainty overwhelms her.

"Hey 'Mione. How've you been?" He prods.

"Great," She attempts a smile, but the results are ridiculously pathetic.

"Mhmm," The enchanting red head rolls his eyes making his way through the doorway towards her bed, "Sure, that's why you went off and skipped all your classes."

"So?" She stares blankly, "What are you two blokes on?"

"Oh nothing," Harry yawns non chalantly, "Worried about you is all."

"Worried about me?"

"See," Ron shrugs his shoulders, "I'm not the only one."

"There is nothing to be worried about. I just have got a bad case of the flu."

"More like a bad case of the loonies," Ron mutters.

"Ron," Harry looks, rather cross "Quit being such a twat."

"Right," says Ron, apologetically, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione presses her thumb to the place where the old wound was, "Well thanks for checking in."

"You're not getting rid of us that easy," Ron laughs a little bit , "We've brought you your homework and dinner."

"We thought the three of us could work together on it, like old times," Harry explains.

"Ummm…" Hermione feels hesitant. She doesn't want them to get too close. All summer she had wished for her mates, but soon discovered the joys of the secrecy that isolation provides. "Actually, I was just thinking of getting some rest. I'm so tired."

"Like Merlin's Beard you are," Ron bounces unto her bed, landing in the spot next to her, "You've spent 24 hours giving those beautiful eyes of their sleep. Now you've got to catch up on coursework."

"I don't know," Hermione fakes a yawn. "Just leave the work and I'll catch up on it later tonight."

"Nonsense," Ron grabs her eye contact,"See, we've ordered a bit of a feast for the three of us and those house elves down in the kitchen may just kill us if we don't eat it all."

"But I'm not hungry."

"Sure, you are," Ron laughs nervously, too nervously. And Hermione knows something weird is going on. And she has no interest in being a part of it.

"But," Hermione cries, "I'm really angry at you Ron."

"What?"

"You called me fat."

Harry's relaxed manner turns to an aura of panic, "Hermione don't you think you're being a bit delusional? You're extremely skinny, I don't think there is an ounce of fat on you're body."

"Yeah, right." Hermione rolls her eyes, "I'm a fat cow. Now get you too. I'm really tired."

"Nonsense, you look lovely 'Mione," Ron grabs her attention. And for a moment she wants to revel in the compliment, but some part of her refuses. _It's all just a lie. He just wants to make you fat._

Hermione's face turns red when she remembers the cruel words of this summer, "And that's why you broke up with me."

Ron takes a breath and exhales. He won't get angry, not with her, not now.

Harry can see his friends discomfort and anguish. He's worried and he does nothing to hide his feelings. "This is why we're worried. You don't have an eating disorder. Do you?"

"What," Hermione's heart beats a little faster. No, she doesn't. Or could she? _No. No. No. Why do they think that? No, I'm fine, absolutely fine. I don't have an eating disorder._ "What are you talking about? Why'd you think that?"

"Well you don't eat in the dining hall, and you've become a bit too skinny," Ron offers, crinkling his nose, "Then the fainting-"

Hermione turns bright red. "Alright, I understand why you're worried. But there really is no reason to be. I don't eat in the dining hall, because I don't feel like I belong with the group anymore after you guys pretty much ignored me all summer and I really did have a hard one. And then I didn't know where to sit, so I've just been getting food from the kitchen."

"But the weight?" Harry lookes slightly relieved.

"Don't know," Hermione continues her lie, "I know I've lost a lot, but I've just been so stressed out. I mean I have been feeling under the weather lately. I had a really bad stomach bug this summer. Ended up in the hospital and everything."

She looks Ron in the eyes, "I promise. I'd tell you if something was wrong."

"Really?" Harry says, "Because you know you can tell us anything?"

"Yeah," Hermione smiled, "I swear. I'm not trying to lose weight; I'm eating a ton."

"Alright then," Ron glances at Harry motioning for the door. "If you're sure nothing's wrong."

"Nothing is," Hermione's not exactly lying. To her what she's doing is absolutely fine. She doesn't have a problem. Everything is fine. Everything is perfect.

"Okay," Ron nods slowly, nibbling on his lip, "But honestly we miss you. Come sit with us in the dining hall, okay? We want you to."

"Of course," Hermione nods her head, relieved and proud, "I will, but, really, I'm tired."

"Okay," Harry nods, taking the hint. "If you're really alright, we'll get going."

"And just to let you know, if we go missing, it's the house elves," Ron shouts out as he goes out the door, "The guilt's on you."

"Right," Hermione laughs.

When they finally disappear, Hermione feels tears fall. There is nothing left in the room but melancholy and loneliness. Just like her summer.


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10- **Ron

Ron can barely swallow his food in the dining hall, contemplating his next course of action. When Harry and Ron confronted Hermione about her eating disorder, she blatantly lied, and neither knew what to do. This was their Hermione, sweet, loyal, and honest Hermione, she couldn't have lied to them about something of such utter importance. But she did, and Ron and Harry couldn't argue back, too shocked by the lack of morality and too afraid of the fury that would emerge if they brought up the diary. And so now they sit here, watching her poke around at her food, unable to say anything.

Yes, Harry and Ron haven't been acting like anything but true Gryffindor. They've been too afraid that they'll offend Hermione by revealing their knowledge of the truth, so they've been watching her lie to their faces for days before they can find the courage to tell her off.

"Please, eat something." Ron can't stand to see _his_ Hermione withering away in front of him due to self-afflicted atrophy. "We're really worried."

"I told you that I was fine," Hermione bites her lip and feels the tears prepare to stream down her eyes. "I'm just not hungry."

"Hermione," Ginny looks at her, "I think it's time we have a little chat."

Hermione rolls her eyes, "Not you too. I've had enough with all your lot's nonsense. Harry and Ron have provided enough awkward confrontation for the week."

"What do you mean?" Ginny looks at them, "I didn't' know that they talked to you about-"

"Really," Hermione scoffs, "It doesn't matter Gin. They just thought I was some ditzy anorexic or something."

"Well are you?" Neville looks at her with prying eyes that set her face aflame with embarrassment."

"No."

Ron rolls his eyes, "Yeah right."

"What?" Hermione gives him a startling glare.

"Mione," Ron looks at her, "We know you're lying. Harry and I saw your diary."

Hermione goes slackjawed before tossing the untouched porridge onto his face. She quickly apologizes and excuses herself from the table. She has to get out of here.

The pavement feels like burning coal as her feet stumble towards some privacy, the feeling of disgust and shame fall upon her. Where's the privacy? Where's the respect? Seven years of friendship has now culminated into this ungrateful game. Well she'll have none of it. She'll get new friends, forget the old. She'd wanted them back, but now all she wants is for them to disappear into the abyss like a phoenix. Hermione starts crying., realizing how irrelevant her own metaphors are. A phoenix is rebirth not an end. How can she be so stupid? She can't do anything right. Nothing at all.

Then she feels an arm on her shoulder. "Wait," desperate and afraid, Ron has never sounded so vulnerable, "Please."

"What," tears fall from her face.

"I'm sorry that I looked through your stuff. I'm sorry that I said it back there. And if you just give me a chance to explain."

"I'm not anorexic." Hermione falls apart and Ron can't stand to see the sight. He pulls her in, praying that she'll start feeling better in his arms, but she won't let him. She slips away down the hall into the prefects bathroom.

She sees the scale tucked away in the corner and takes a step on. She's gained a whopping 0.02 pounds. She looks in the mirror, she is so fat. Why is her world falling apart?

Then the door flings open, Ron emerges covered in a glitter of sweat. She doesn't know how he'd gotten in, all she cares about is that 0.02 pounds. He pulls her off the scale and into his arms, glancing at the numbers on the screen. "Oh, shit."

She looks up at him, her body shaking as tears fell down her face. "I know. I'm so fat. I'm so fat. I'm so ugly and f-f-fat."

"Hermione," Ron looks at her, "You're beautiful. You're skinny."

"You liar," she squeals, "I'm just a fat, worthless cow."

I she seeing the same thing as him? The gorgeous girl that he'd fallen in love with is anything but a fat, worthless cow. Still, some indescribable phenomenon overtakes him. When every thread of Hermione's sanity was relying on some resounding confidence-boosting aha moment that Ron hopes to provide, his mind is going blank for words. All that he can produce is an unimpressing "You're not. Just look at yourself in the mirror"

Which of course only leads to her elaboration of what she sees in the mirror. Words fall from her mouth as tears scramble down from her frightened eyes to the marble tile below. And Ron listens with a fragile sense of reality as she describes the monster that her imagination warps her emaciated body into. She pinches skin and elaborates rolls of fat in places where bones are jutting outfrom her skin. She moves her head back and declares that she has a double chin. Her lips are too thin, her thighs are like jello, her nose is ugly, her chest is too small, her waist is as large as Hagrid's.

"This isn't normal Hermione."

"I know," she bursts into tears, "I can't do anything right."

All the 'no 's, 'You're not 's, 'You're amazing 's and 'You're beautiful' s are useless against her insecurities. Instead he just ends up to be a shoulder to cry on until she falls asleep in Ron's arms.

He picks her up, frightened by the lightness of her body. It reminds him of his 7 year old cousin who he used to play with all day. Except instead of being a growing, feisty little guy with a ball of energy, she's an emaciated, lifeless skeleton as fragile as his mother's finest dragon scale china.

He spends a couple minutes looking at her as she lays in her bed, before realizing that he's too afraid to leave her. What if she wakes, only to emerge into more tears? What if she hurts herself? And as he glances at his body, a voice inside his head terrifies him. _She looks like she could break? At any second she could break. _

Ron is determined to take care of Hermione. No matter how crazy or unhealthy she'd gotten to be. He wants his old Hermione back. He needs her. He loves her.


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11- Hermione**

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asks from across the table. He's had two pieces of toast, a platter of pancakes, a banana and some sausage. He' currently washing it all down with a glass of orange juice. Hermione watches with a twinge of horror, fear and jealousy. She wishes she could eat like him, but at the same time the idea sickens her.

"Of course," Hermione fakes a smile, before returning her eyes to her own full plate, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You haven't touched your food," Ron ushers to the full plate in front of her. Hermione doesn't know what to do. She can't very well stuff her face, but maybe one piece of toast won't hurt?

"Oh, right," Hermione shakes her head. Thinking of some distraction "I've just been thinking. I forgot to do my charms homework."

"Don't worry. You can turn mine in," Ron smiles proudly, "Professor Flitwick won't mind. He's already insured me outstanding marks, what with me being so uncharacteristically intelligent."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment," Ginny teases her brother, "It only elaborates on how you're normally completely useless."

Ron rolls his eyes and gently shoves his sister on the shoulder. Ginny giggles as her fingers wrap around Harry's. A pang of envy hits Hermione as her eyes fall to her own empty hand, wishing that she could be with Ron as carelessly and passionately as Ginny and Harry.

"I better get going," She says, feeling the worried stares of everybody on her. Do they all know about her diet, do they all think she is anorexic? Hermione clenches her fist, this whole thing is Ron's fault. Why does she even bother coming to the dining hall? "I have to finish the charms assignment."

"You sure you don't want to use mine," Ron follows eagerly behind her.

"No," Hermione feels sick. Something feels off. "I couldn't do that, Ron. I'm not a cheater."

"It won't make you a cheater," Ron insists, "Now, finish your food."

Hermione bites her lip as her eyes dart around the group, everybody giving her that same sad, pitying look. "I really have to go," Hermione slides out of the table, "See you in class."

"No," Ginny gives her a stern look that is eerily similar to her own mother's frightening command, "Sit back down and eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Hermione hisses, "And I don't want to fail charms."

Ginny scoffs, "Hermione sit down. Ron and Harry filled me in on everything that's been going on. You're sick. Everybody knows, there isn't a point of lying."

"I'm not," Hermione bites down on the inside of her cheek. It wasn't a lot but it would at least numb the feeling down a little so she won't cry. Then she turns to leave, ignoring them all.

"It's not going to disappear," Ron says, stumbling behind her, "You have a disease, and we aren't going to let you kill yourself."

"Ron," she snaps around, "I know you mean well, but stop. I have this under control, and I don't need you butting into my life."

Ron smiles, "If there were any chance that you were still somewhat sane, you'd know just how untrue that statement just was."

She mutters an irritated "stay away" before stomping off into the distance. Ron shakes his head, even if he tries to, it would fail. They're head girl and boy, which means that seeing each other on a regular basis is inevitable. In fact, their meeting is that very night. Suddenly an idea pops into Ron's head on how to get through to Hermione.


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Hermione shivers the prefect's meeting room, her leg tapping and fidgeting in a desperate attempt to burn calories. She'd read somewhere that fidgeting could burn up to 300 calories a day which is roughly equivalent to half an hour of running.

"Hermione," Ron walks in, his gait is confident but cautious, a clear indicator of his current state. "Sorry I'm late; I got held up at the library."

"That's fine," Hermione nods her head. This is their first meeting alone and to say Hermione is nervous is an understatement. Her heart races, afraid of being so close to someone who used to be her everything. With one comment, she has realized he can change the entire course of her life. He's done it once before. _You've gained weight_. Hermione shudders, but then relishes the idea of have proving him wrong. _Must've been a surprise for him to realize that I'm not so fat anymore._

"Where do we begin?" Ron asks, "I noticed that the Slytherin prefects seem to be taking their jobs lightly. It's as if they're trying to encourage violence and house hatred."

"Right," Hermione mindlessly nods her head in an attempt to appear attentive, but she's a thousand miles away, thinking about the quibbler Luna gave her earlier and the article about pixies. Then her thoughts wander off to her charms paper, and the 3rd year Hufflepuff who had gotten in a fight with a Ravenclaw in his year earlier in the day. She should probably tell Ron about that.

"So what do we do about it?" Ron asks.

"Right," Hermione is captivated by the chandelier above her head. If it breaks, will it hit her? How much would it hurt? Could it kill her? Would the candles go out, or would they set her on fire? Could that kill her?

"Are you paying attention?" Ron looks dubious

"Mhmm…" Hermione looks at her shoes. They're very ugly and she's always hated them.

"Hermione?" Ron places his hand on hers, "Are you all right?"

This time Hermione is listening. The way her name sounds against Ron's lips, she can't ignore him. "Of course."

"You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Hermione feels chilly again and her teeth began to chatter. She doesn't know why she's always cold, but she decides that she should start bringing an extra sweatshirt around with her just in case.

"That's it," Ron says, completely exasperated, "You're going to the hospital wing."

"What?" Hermione gasps, unable to be distracted from such a threat.

"I've had enough of watching you deteriorate. Just look at you. You're nothing but skin and bones, you can't even hold a conversation, and your failing every class."

Hermione starts crying, "No. I'll do anything else, but that."

"Fine," Ron gives her a sad smile, "Then go down with me to the dining hall and eat a huge dinner. Not just a piece of toast, but a big feat."

"Fine, and, if I do, you'll leave me alone."

Ron looks at her for a moment. Leave her alone? He hadn't intended for a bet, but if that's what it takes... "And, if you can't, you'll come with me down to the hospital wing to tell them about your little diet."

"Fine," Hermione tries to lighten the mood, already determining how she'll get rid of the food later, "I can finish a meal. It won't be a big deal"

"Good, so it's a bet." Ron gives her a smile.

"Mhmm." Hermione forces herself over to the door, but as her hands wrap around the handle she realizes that it won't open. Ron shakes his head at her, and watches Hermione hyperventilate as she pushes and pulls with all the strength she has left. "The door is stuck."

"Relax," Ron insists

"We really are stuck," She says, clearly panicked, "But I'm sure they'll notice somehow. Right? Harry'll notice. He'd notice that you were gone. Somebody will notice."

She looks at him to agree and so Ron just nods his head, unsure if he should tell her this was planned or not. Judging by her nerves, it probably would be best to omit that detail.

Hermione finds herself, sulking down on the floor, "I guess the bet's off."

"Nahh, there's food here," Ron motions at the kitchenette in the corner of the room. He walks over grabbing a plate and putting 3 premade triangle cut Tuna Sandwiches on it.

"I'm not eating _that,_" Hermione contorts her face into a disgruntled huff, "Tuna - it's revolting."

"It's all there is to eat," Ron beckons to the inside of the fridge in the prefect's meeting room, that had nothing but pumpkin juice a tray of petite sandwiches, "Wait I think they have egg salad ones as well."

Hermione shudders, calculating the calories in her head.

"Come on, just have one Hermione," Ron tilts his head slightly, "Or is there a reason you can't."

"I'm a vegan?" Hermione declares hesitantly. "I don't eat meat or any products of animals," Hermione smiles proudly at the excuse she'd used on her parents last summer.

"Mhmm," Ron laughs snidely, "But you're still hungry, right?"

"Well, sure a tad, but there isn't anything for me to eat."

"Oh, look here," Ron opens a cupboard to reveal a whole pantry of food, "I think something here would suffice your dietary requirements."

"Ron," Hermione furrows her eyebrows into comedic resentment, "You're such a git."

"Why?" Ron fakes innocence, "Because I've found you food."

Hermione scowls as Ron puts together a peanut butter sandwich for her to eat. Her stomach lets out a cry of help, trying to bring attention to its deprivation. Ironically, Hermione ignores it, insisting that she's hardly hungry, "I hate peanut butter. And I'm allergic to peanuts."

"What about pudding?" Ron asks skeptically, ushuring to the sweets, "Chocolate frogs?

"I'm trying not to eat junk food."

"You mean you're trying not to eat food," he says.

She scrunches up her face and lets out a defying sigh.

"I can't stand you," She moans.

"I'm only trying to help."

"Stop trying," Hermione shuts her eyes and moves her fingers along the wall, tracing the subtle cracks.

"Hermione," he looks at her, "Listen, you're-"

"Don't talk ," Hermione shakes her head.

"No, just listen, please. I'm only doing this because I want you to be healthy and happy."

"And this is supposed to make me happy? Making me fatter is going to make me healthy?"

"Hermione," Ron is afraid to say the word, it makes it too real and too scary. "I think you have a problem with food and weight."

"So now you're calling me fat," Hermione crosses her arms and bites her lips, turning to the wall. Ron feels his heart jolt, realizing how she interpreted what he'd just said.

"No," he walks toward her, "It's the opposite. You know that. I think you have an eating disorder. There, I said it, I think you're too skinny. I think your starving yourself."

"What?" she turned red in the face, "So this summer I was a fat mudblood, and now I'm too skinny for you."

Ron shook his head, "Stop."

"I'm just never good enough for you."

"Is that what this is about?" he looks at her, unable to contain himself with worry and guilt, "You started starving yourself after the fight, didn't you? It began after you convinced yourself that I broke up with you because you were fat?"

"Oh please, Ron," she smacks her lips together, "This isn't about you and I don't starve myself."

"I'm just worried about you," Ron looks down, "The truth is I still love with you. How could I not, after the relationship we had? We were meant to be together."

Hermione looks at him with doe eyes, "You love me?"

Ron pauses. His face turns red. He's gotten himself in a position that he doesn't want to be in.

"Yeah," Ron nods his head, "I love you, but I know we can't be together, at least not now."

"Because I'm just a fat cow? Can't you just admit that it's why we're broken up?"

Ron's smoldering glare sends chills up her back. His evident anger and frustration is boiling over, and the room is all too peaceful to contain it. Then it happens he breaks, and he punches his hand into the wall, causing a giant whole. Her jaw drops, and so does his. He slides down to the ground and buries his face into his arms.

"Why won't you listen to me? You aren't fat. You're too skinny, because you don't eat, you starve yourself. And it's the only thing that's keeping us apart, this stupid eating disorder."

"Stop saying that!" Hermione cries, turning away from him. She doesn't want to see his pain and she doesn't want to feel guilty.

She calms down and takes a breath as her body paces the room. This is too much for her to deal with. She's trapped in a room with her ex whose accusing her of an eating disorder. And the worst part is he's trying to make her eat something!

"I don't have an eating disorder," Hermione growls, "And what I eat is none of your business. I'm not super skinny and I'm not starving myself, so let it go."

Ron ignores it, "Just let me help you. You've got to eat something or you'll die."

This comment strikes a chord, "Don't you dare tell me what I've got to do. You have no right. I'm not a house elf who you can just boss around. I'm not some little kid who has to have everyone decide what they eat. If I want to be skinny, I can be skinny. And don't tell me any different."

They sit for a moment before she says one last comment, "You know this is all a little too convenient for you, isn't it?" Hermione bites her lip, thinking that the accusation isn't legit, but she's angry and she wants to blame him for this. She doesn't know how much truth is in her question."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Ron gets up "I know how to get out of here. Harry's on the other side of the door and all I have to do is slip him a note and he'll unlock it."

"What?" Hermione looks like she could kill him, and Ron wonders how long she'll be angry about this.

"All you have to do is eat. Then we'll leave."

"What?" she squeals. Hermione feels sick, like the world is about to end. She can't bear to take a single bite. "No."

"Then we're not leaving," he's not playing games, and his unfamiliar tone of voice scares her.

"I hate you," She says.

"It's for your own good."

"Making me fat is for my own good?"

"Just eat."

"Fine," Hermione frowns, grabbing the tuna sandwich and stuffing it in her mouth as tears flicker down her cheeks.

"Just swallow it," Ron coaches her on, "Just one bite at a time."

"I don't need you to tell me how to eat," Hermione growls at him, after spitting out the mush in her mouth.

"Are you sure? By the looks of it, I'd think you'd have forgotten."

"You are such a wanker."

"I'm sorry," Ron says gently, "I shouldn't have said that."

"You shouldn't have," she agrees.

"Here," Ron hands her an egg sandwich, "Try not to choke on it."

Hermione stares at the sandwich unable to bite in without the calorie contents sending her to tears. She doesn't want to eat.

"Do you need something to drink?" Ron asks encouragingly.

"Water," Hermione snaps, "Just water."

Ron nods his head as if he understood, "Alright, well, give me your wand."

Hermione reluctantly hands it over.

It takes Hermione 20 minutes to finish off the little sandwich, and most of it ends up as crumbs on the floor. "I hope your realize this is'nt normal."

Hermione insists she just eats slowly, but Ron will have none of it. He sends the note, but refuses to let up on Hermione.

"There is nothing wrong with me."

"You know that's a lie."

A tear falls from her eye, "You're delusional."

Ron doesn't respond, noticing the simple irony of the whole thing.

When they're finally free from the domain, Hermione hurries down the hall, before Ron can catch up with her. "What do we do now?" Harry asks when Ron tells him about what happened inside the prefect's meeting room.

"We tell Madam Pomfrey."

"'Mione will kill us, Do you really think it's necessary?"

"Harry, if we don't get her help soon, this disease will kill her. She can't even eat."


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Hermione wakes up from a nightmare, terrified. She opens her eyes to find that Bellatrix is nowhere in sight and she isn't being tortured in Malfoy Manor. No, she smiles, she's with Ron in the hospital wing. Hermione pauses, slightly confused. _Why am I here? _Her heart beats a little faster. Did she pass out again? She doesn't remember passing out. The last thing she remembers is Ron forcing her to eat a tuna sandwich in the prefects room, and storming out of their as soon as possible. She had been livid. Of course, that doesn't seem to stop him from sitting by her bed. But why is she here?

"How long?" She mumbles.

"3 days," Ron says plainly.

"What? What do you mean three days?"

"You've been passed out for three days," He whispers.

"That's impossible," She cries, thinking of the three days she has lost from her life.

"It happened," Ron signals for Madam Pomfrey to come over and attend Hermione.

"I don't understand," her voice falls in disbelief.

"Ms. Granger," Madam Pomfrey sits by her bed, shooting her a constant sympathetic and all-knowing glare. "You're severely malnourished. If you aren't careful your body will eventually fail due to atrophy."

"I missed Halloween, didn't I?" She tries to change the subject

"Yeah," Ron holds himself together. "You did, but that's not important, right now."

"Ms. Granger," Madam Pomfrey demands her attention, "Ron tells me you haven't been eating."

"I eat fine," Hermione tenses, "He's loony."

"You weigh 6 stone and 6 pounds?" Madam Pomfrey's lips curl in as she speaks, "You need to be at least 8 stone by Holiday, or I'm afraid we'll have to evaluate you situation as a medical condition."

"In other words you have to eat," Ron says.

"I eat plenty," Hermione moans, "I just have a fast metabolism."

"Well eat more, dear," Madam Pomfrey exclaims, "And if you don't your friends have all been instructed to let me know."

"They're all insane," Hermione mumbles, "I wouldn't trust a word they say."

"Maybe so," Madam Pomfrey looks dubious, "But they're concerned."

"Shouldn't be," Hermione insists

"I hope not," Madam Pomfrey responds, "So prove them wrong. 8 stone by holidays."

"Or what?" Hermione scoffs.

"Hogwarts' policy requires students to receive a full medical evaluation at St. Mungo's if they remain severely underweight for 2 straight months," She says matter of factly.

"I'm not severely underweight."

Madam Pomfrey sighs, "Just eat this meal and then you can go. But you'll have to come back next Wednesday for a check up."

Hermione's done this before, but she hates doing the bulimic thing. She gives in, slowly consuming the soup and steak.

Ron just stares at her, a huge grin across his face. Little did he know that she's planning on getting rid of it from her stomach as soon as she got out? "So I passed out?" Hermione asked, "Weird."

"Yeah, that seems to be happening a lot lately," Ron said sarcastically, "Wonder why?"

"What do you want from me?" she asked annoyed.

"I don't want anything from you," He replied, "It's what I want for you."

"And what's that?" She forced down a spoonful of steamy soup that tastes like a mix of pumpkin juice and tomato juice. In other words, it's nasty.

"Health. Happiness. Me."

She laughs at the last part, "Maybe we should just try being friends, for now?"

"That'd be better then you hating me," Ron laughs

"I don't hate you," she whispered, as if it were a deep secret, "I'm just frustrated with your accusations

"It's only because-" Ron starts to explain, but Hermione will have none of it. She's tired of the guilt that surrounded the situation. She really does want him. She wants to kiss him, but their relationship is over, and Ron's said it himself. _He doesn't want to get in a relationship with her._ Why can't they just be Ron and Hermione again sans the drama?

Besides, isn't she supposed to be the one always taking care of Ron? Guiding Ron? Being the know-it-all? Acting as his moral conscious? Nurturing her friends like a mother? Isn't she supposed to be the superior in this relationship?

Suddenly it dawns on her. Ron has taken over her old role around school. He's getting the house points, being responsible, solving every ones problems, and strange as it is acting empathetically in situations. As head boy he's become a role model to much of the younger population, who often come to him for advice. _He'd make a good dad._ Hermione's shocked to catch herself thinking such things, but it just goes to prove she still has feelings for Ron; she wants a future with him.

Before, Ron and Hermione were so different that they could mesh together without clashing, but sometimes they were too different. And drew a wedge between them, that made it hard to communicate on the same level. Now, they're too similar. Ron is taking over Hermione's position as the nurturing one, the sensible one. And they both can't play that role, can they?

Hermione has never learnt how to be taken care of. Ever since she was young and had arrived at Hogwarts, she had been Miss Independent. She was always helping others, but the favor had never been returned. She just needs to learn to be cared for, or, at least, pretend to take his help. Then they can have a relationship; she's sure of it.

Hermione breathes in and sucks in her pride. She just had to concede to his worries, nothing more. "Ron, maybe your right."

"What?" Ron looks flabbergasted; Hermione Granger has never admitted that she's been wrong before.

"I guess you're right…" She wishes she was anywhere else but there, "Maybe I haven't been the healthiest lately. I probably should eat more."

"So you will, right?"

"Yes," Hermione lies, "I promise to eat more. This has been a real wake up call."

"Really?" Ron's face breaks out into a grin.

"Mhmm," She feels guilt cloud her heart.

"Great," Ron's relieved, his whole body stops tensing, "But I'm holding you to that promise."

"Great," Hermione fakes a smile, "So let's get out of here."

"It's lunchtime," Ron says.

"Oh… ummm… Well, I just ate…" She sighs hesitantly.

"You have to gain 20 pounds in 6 weeks, Hermione," Ron bit his bottom lip, "You need to eat triple the amount of a normal person."

"Fine," Hermione feels sick to her stomach, "I'll be down. I just want to take a quick shower before I go."

"That's probably a good idea," Ron nods his head in agreement, "Just don't take too long."

"I'll try not to," Hermione fakes a smile before heading off to her empty dormitory. In some ways Hermione likes the privacy, but she misses the companionship of two other girl's flouncing around in their pj's gossiping about boys. She was never a fan of neither Lavender, nor Pavarti, but she does feel sorry for the loss of both her roommates. And she misses the girl time.

It really isn't fair. All the deaths that occurred weren't right. She feels a trickle of a tear roll down her cheek. _Don't cry! Stop being weak!_ She shouts inside her head, but the flashbacks of the war start coming.

Hermione can't stop herself anymore. She's out of control as she lurches towards the bathroom. She kneels over the toilet and shoves a puking pastille down her throat. After a few minutes, all the food she had consumed is gone.

She's calm now, eerily calm. In silence, she wipes the vomit from the sides of her mouth. Rinses her mouth out and performs a few spells to get rid of the remnants of stomach acid on her teeth. If there's one thing she's learnt from her parents it's that good dental hygiene is very important. S

Hermione smiles at the mirror. She is once again in control, completely composed.

When Hermione arrives at the dining hall, her stomach growls in discomfort. She has a plan to avoid swallowing a single bite of food, but just being around the stuff makes her nervous.

"Hermione," Harry beams, holding Ginny in his arms as tightly as he can, "You're better."

From the looks of his grin, Hermione can tell Ron's told him the "good" news. She's irritated, but what's the use in showing it? "Yeah," Hermione fakes a smile, "100% better."

"Good," Ginny says, clearly pleased "We missed you."

_I was always here. _Hermione fakes another grin, as she finds a seat in between Ron and Neville that has clearly been saved for her. _Right in the middle, where you can all watch me. _They think by surrounding her, she'll be able to get away with anything. They're wrong.

"Hermione," Ron sticks out his hand, "Wand."

Hermione's throat stiffens, "What?"

"I'd feel better if you didn't have your wand," Ron says flatly, like it's the most reasonable request in the world. Hermione turns beet red.

"What?" Hermione gasps.

Harry shifts slightly as Ron looks to the ground. "Madam Pomfrey gave us pamphlets."

"And what did they say?" Hermione purses her lips together. No one responds. How can they when it would imply that Hermione is capable of such deceit. What they don't know is that it had been her plan all along.

Neville looks at her, "My cousin used to use her wand to make the food on her plate apparate elsewhere. Nobody realized until she died, and they found her diary."

"I'm really sorry Neville," She croaks, handing him her wand, the most personal object a wizard had. "I didn't know."

Ginny and Harry try not to stare, but Hermione can feel everyone's eyes on her. Every move she makes will be analyzed. .

"Here," Ron gives her a plate piled on with food, "Eat."

_So now everyone else gets to decide what I'll eat_ "Thanks," She says, grimacing at the food. She can feel everyone watch as she pokes and prods at the food, placing it in her mouth, like it's poison and taking the daintiest bites ever. Ron smiles at her when she finally swallows a piece of potato, and continues with every bite.

"I have to get my books for transfiguration," Hermione stands up after just a quarter of the food was gone.

"I'll come with you," Ron offers.

"No," Hermione replies sharply. "Sorry, I just don't want you to be late. So, just go on."

Ron looks to the floor, "I think it'd be a good idea if I stuck with you."

"The pamphlets?"

He nods his head, and she bursts into tears, thinking of how it will be nearly impossible for her to get away with anything.


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Hermione can barely get out of bed, and the truth is she really doesn't want to. Why would she when it means that her so-called "friends" are going to fill her up with food. It doesn't sound appealing. So she stays there and stares at the ceiling. She doesn't care if she misses class. She doesn't care if everyone gets angry at her. She doesn't care at all.

But Ron cares, and he's making it known. "Hermione," He snaps at her, "You can't miss any more classes. Professor McGonagall's threatening to make you drop half your load, and I don't know if that's such a bad idea."

Hermione smiles, "That'd be nice."

Ron turns on the light. "They're going to shut the dining hall soon. You won't be able to get breakfast if we don't hurry."

She laughs. He won't leave her alone, and it's taking all her strength not to get angry at him. For weeks he hasn't left her alone, afraid that she'll make herself throw up or go exercise. He takes her wand at meals, piles her plate full of food, always wants to talk about how she's feeling, and he never lets her skip a meal, ever. She's trying to take his help, but it's so annoying and the truth is she's not convinced that anything's wrong with her. She thinks she's fine, and she's tired of pretending that she's not.

"Hermione, are you doing this to skip breakfast?"

"Wow," Hermione laughs, "That took you awhile to figure out."

Ron rolls his eyes and frowns. She mentally curses herself for being such a bitch. She really wants him, and it's not his fault that he thinks she has an eating disorder. It's just frustrating to play along. But it's nice to see that he cares.

"Come on," Ron sits down, acting like her mother, "Hermione, you gained 5 pounds last week. You've been doing so well, that it would suck to mess it up." _It's not worth it. _

And it just keeps ringing in her head. _ 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. 5 pounds. Fat. Fat. Fat. I'm getting so fat. And all of this food. _

Hermione freezes; she feels like she can't breathe. She's tired of this. She loves Ron, but she can't get fat for him. She pounds her brain for something. She's smart; there has to be some other way to look like she's getting better without actually getting fat.

Ron swears, and Hermione can't help but look. Ron never swears anymore; he's too perfect for it. "I'm sorry Hermione. I shouldn't have said that about the weight thing. The books said not to say anything about weight."

_Always with those stupid books! _ Every day he sits in the library for an hour reading about eating disorders and then he acts like some sort of expert. Meanwhile, she's supposed to sit there while he says things like 'I keep reading that a lot of anorexics do it for control. Hermione, is that why you do it, because you need control?'

"Can you just leave Ron?" Hermione sighs, "I'll eat an extra lot at lunch. I'm just not in the mood right now."

"Hermione-"

"Ron!" She breathes, "I swear! I'm really tired, I didn't sleep at all last night."

He moves his gaze around, clearly uncomfortable. He's about to confront her about something or another; she can tell because he's getting nervous and biting down on his lower lip "Did you run, last night?"

"What?"

"Did you run, last night?" Ron grabs her attention, "Is that why you're tired?"

Hermione's hands clench into fists, "Yes. Okay? I ran. What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're not supposed exercise," Ron stares at her, "You know that. You do want to get better from your eating disorder don't you?"

Hermione stares at him for a good minute. "It's called an eating disorder. What does running have to do with how much I eat? It's exercise; it's healthy."

Ron stares, "Well, this one book I was reading says…"

She can feel the insides of her palms sweat a little more, her heart beat a little faster, and her thoughts get a little angrier. "Ron, if you talk about those books one more time!"

He stares at her, hurt and unsure of what to do.

She stands up. "Fine, you know what? Fine! I'll get ready. Okay? Happy? I'll get ready and you can just leave me a lone for a bit okay. You can lecture me about running some other time."

Ron shuffles in his place, "But Hermione-"

"Please," She huffs, "I'll meet you in transfiguration, you can sneak me a bagel, or, a doughnut, or whatever. I don't care. Just go."

Ron looks hurt but agrees heading out.

Hermione rushes down the hall. She's so stupid; she should have listened to Ron, because now she's late for Transfiguration. She finds the door and pulls it open, her face is red

Ron's already sitting down, saving a seat for her. It's hard for her to stay angry at Ron, when he's been sweet enough to stay with her in the hospital wing and then save a seat for transfiguration class. _Perhaps,_ she smiles, _I'll forgive him._

A soft murmur breaks out amongst the class as they see Hermione enter. "Eh, 'Mione." Neville beamed, "Finally, we were getting worried about you."

Hermione nods her head at Neville.

Another murmur breaks out as the women standing in the front of the class snaps around. _Who is she?_ She can't be a teacher. She looks too young, too skinny, and too pretty. She had long thick golden blonde hair, the perfect body with a nice rack, and a wrinkle-less, porcelain smooth, tanned face. "You must be Miss Granger," she laughs with a touch of glee. Even her voice is beautiful. Whoever she is Hermione hates her.

"Yes," Hermione nods her head hesitantly.

"Detention," The woman laughs, "And 10 points from Gryffindor. I will not permit tardiness in my class, no matter what the conditions are."

"What?" Hermione gasps.

"Now who would like to fill in Hermione here on this very complex form of transfiguration that we will attempt today?" The teacher ignores her, "Mr. Weasley? You seem to be very efficient in the art of advanced configuration."

"Right, its cosmetic transfiguration," He shifted nervously in his seat. "It's when one wizard casts a spell to change something about another wizard, cosmetically. It can't be done to one self, so it requires another wizard to do perform the act. There are two kinds: temporary and permanent. The temporary spells are often used by aurors and ministry officials when they need to be disguised and it's easier than polyjuice potion once mastered. But it wears off in 24 hours. Only professional transfiguration specialists have Wizarding licenses to cast permanent transfiguration spells because they're highly complex, easy to mess up the results, sometimes painful, and even more difficult to repair. However cosmetic, same-species transfiguration of any kind, especially cosmetic, is often frowned upon by the wizarding community because it can cause an identity crisis and has many moral disputes."

"Excellent," the teacher laughs, "Completely filled her in. 25 points to Gryffindor for that excellent explanation. I am truly impressed Mr. Weasley with your capability to pay such good attention in class. Perhaps you should be the teacher."

The Slytherins groan while the Gryffindors erupt into cheers, applauding Ron's academic excellence. Lately he's been a great attribute to the Gryffindors, an asset when their typical nerd, Hermione, is unreliable to earn them points through her scholarly attitude.

But Ron is saddened to realize Hermione is not cheering for him. It's hard for her to see someone else get so much recognition when she's failing to even pass classes. This is not her norm and she misses the moments of pride she'd get when she used to earn her house points through excellent answers. But Hermione turns these insecurities into fascination towards the topic Ron had been discussing. Never before has it occurred to her that her appearance can be changed by a simple, pain free spell. Her bushy hair, her pale complexion, her thin lips, her awful flabby body, her flat chest: all were factors that could change within seconds if she wanted them to.

"Who is she?" Hermione whispers to Ron.

"Her name is Professor Capri. She's the new transfiguration teacher since McGonnagal was named head teacher."

Hermione gulps. This is not how she wants to impress her new teachers. Now what does she think of her? Her worry is disrupted when Gargoyle tosses a spit ball at Ron's head. _ Very Creative._

"I see how it is," The teacher laughs, "Shall we have some house competition." The room grows silent. She has no idea how serious her competition will be taken." "Hmm?" She smiles, enthused by their noticeable intrigue. "Alright two volunteers from each house."

"Weasley and Granger," She shouts the names, ushering them to the front. "Gargoyle and Parkinson."

Hermione is not in the mood. But the teacher is too excited to realize that Hermione isn't. "Alright, each of these males will change something about their female counterparts. Something simple, one trait. Just shut your eyes imagine it in your head and point it at the area affected and say "Cosmetico". Oh, and to make it interesting, another 25 points will be rewarded the house that does it best."

Pansy laughs. "Go at it. Give me a pair of enormous tits." Gargoyle smiles. He shuts his eyes and flicks his wand, moving his lips to the word he had heard moments before, but to his dismay only one of her breasts grows while the other one shrinks. The class laughs, while Pansy grimaces in distaste.

The teacher gives her a concerned look and casts a spell to return them to their normal size. How the boy in front of her made it into Advanced Transfiguration is puzzling, but she knows this is new material, and it is tricky.

"Give it a go, Mr. Weasley," She sits down. Ron doesn't know what to do.

"But I don't know what to change?" Ron chokes, "She's perfect." Everyone in the class 'aw'ed at his words, while Hermione turns bright red as her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Ron looksat her apologetically; he doesn't want her to feel uncomfortably. _Oh well, I guess I would prefer not seeing those robes hang of your bones like they're towel racks I wish you looked healthy. _

He shuts his eyes and imagines the old Hermione, the Hermione who didn't look like a starving, ill tortured prisoner. "Cosmetico!" He opens his eyes, to see Hermione. She looks so good, so much healthier. This is her perfect weight, but why can't she see that.

Hermione feels her body expand. She looksat her reflection and gasps at her chubby cheeks. "You made me fat?" She directs a finger at Ron as if she were his mother lecturing him about some misdeed.

"No," He defends himself, backing away from the angry witch. The class's eyes goggle at them. "You look good, healthy."

"Fat," She corrects him.

"You don't look fat," Harry interjects.

"Shut up," She cries, stomping back to her seat.

Everyone stares. An awkward silence looms in the fragility of the moment. The new teacher breaks the silence, "Well, um as promised 25 points to Gryffindor. And everyone pair up and give it a try."

"But Professor Capri," Pansy cries, "Class is almost done."

_So that's her name. _Hermione looks relieved as the bell rang. She hurries up the front of the class. "Professor, could you change me back?"

"Umm," Professor Capri looks reluctant, "Sometimes it's fun to give new looks a try." She gives Hermione a once over and walks away. Hermione stands awestricken.


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Hermione stares at her fat self in the mirror as tears erupt from her eyes. She's just escaped from transfiguration and she's too embarrassed to go back out into the hallway. Then she hears it, a sound from the stall, a sound that is all too eerily familiar. It goes on and off for a few minutes.

"Hermione?" Hannah Abbot emerges out of the stall "I thought I was all alone…"

Hermione pauses. Was Hannah just throwing up, on purpose? Chills go up her back. Is there a chance that… And then her mouth shoots the question out before she can think, "Were you making yourself throw up?"

Hannah bows her head, her blonde hair falling over face. "Please, don't tell anyone." 

"I won't," Hermione assures her. Her eyes examine Hannah, pleased that, normally, Hermione is thinner than her. "I swear."

"Good," Hannah nods her head before casting a few spells on her mouth, "I thought you'd say that."

"Why?"

"No reason, I guess. I just saw that you were weighing in at Madam Pomfrey's one day, and I had a feeling that you may be wrongfully accused too, if you know what I mean?."

Quickly, Hermione nods her head.

"Really?" Hannah smiles, "You mean she's trying to convince everyone that you have an eating disorder too."

Hermione nods, "Sort of. I passed out two weeks ago, and Ron told Madam Pomfrey he thought I was anorexic. Now she's threatening to send me to St. Mungo's if I don't become a complete cow."

"The same thing happened to me," Hannah whispers, "Ernie turned me in a month ago. That moronic bloke is the reason I'm getting fatter and fatter as we speak."

Hermione scoffs "I'm sorry."

Hannah shakes her head, "its fine. I'm just relieved that I'm not the only one. For a moment I wondered if this was a setup or something like that."

"No," Hermione laughs, "But I'd be more careful. Ron's done quite a few setups of his own on me. You never know if Ernie might try one.

Hannah looks Hermione over, "Yeah? I heard about that transfiguration thing; it's really awful what he did. Do you want me to change you back?"

Hermione smiles, "Merlin's beard, yes! I can't walk around like a fat pig!"

Within a few minutes Hermione was back to her emaciated self, and Hannah and Hermione were swapping horror stories about being force-fed by their so-called-friends.

"Well," Hannah gives her an encouraging smile after hearing about the awful books, "At least you're back together with Ron. I thought your relationship might be over after watching that fight this summer."

"What?" Hermione freezes, "You saw the fight?"

"Yeah," Hannah becomes uncomfortable, "Sorry. I didn't mean to eaves drop. It was just that Ernie and I were at the table next to you, and you guys were too drunk and loud to ignore. I mean completely incomprehensible. It was one of the strangest things I've ever seen."

Hermione bites her lip before grabbing Hannah's hand and pulling her out of the bathroom. "Come with me!"

Ron and Hermione stare as they enter the room of requirement, slowly following behind Ginny, Neville, Harry and Hannah. Thanks to Hannah, they will finally know what happened the night of the fight, but both are terrified of what they'll see. Will there be relief, or a new wave of tension?

_Ron was crying in her arms about Fred, as she sipped on a particularly strong libation. "Hermione, why'd it have to be him? Why him?"_

"_I don't know, Ron," A tear slid from her cheek, "I really don't know."_

_"You wouldn't understand. You don't have siblings."_

"_I know," Hermione said, "But I suppose Harry's like my brother, and he nearly died. I thought we'd lost him for a while."_

_Ron turned to her, a glare in his eyes. "Yeah, it's all about Harry isn't it?"_

"_What?" Hermione gave him a quizzical look "That's not what I meant Ron. I'm just trying to relate to how you feel."_

"_You're kidding right! So you're saying that if I'd died, you'd be fine as long as Harry lived."_

"_No, Ron!" Hermione crosses her chest, "I'm not saying that at all. Oh, now I get it. You just want to break up with me, because I've gained weight. You think I'm fat, don't you? Am I so big you're embarrassed to be seen with me? Don't you love me?"_

"_No," Ron said. "I love you. But, damn, do you really love Harry? Do you love my best mate? Because, I thought I was just paranoid about what's going on there, but is it true."_

"_No," Hermione furrowed her lips, "I love you, Ron. Harry's just like a brother."_

_Silence over takes them, as they both start crying._

"_It's because I'm a fat mudblood, admit it."  
>"You love Harry because I have red hair, admit it." <em>

_Then the two walk away, too wasted to understand how screwed up their conversation was._

Hermione and Ron turn bright red… they hadn't made sense. The whole conversation was just a collection of drunken rambles and they both feel an enourmous amount of guilt and relief. They hadn't said any of those things to the other person, and the other person hadn't said any of the things to them. But for months they had blamed the other person, and now they both feel extremely hypocritical.

"So?" Harry Harry at them, "What happened?"

Hermione bows her head, "Ron didn't call me a fat mud blood… I did that myself."

Ginny steps forward, "So you said all those things about Harry then?"

"No," Ron mumbles, "Ummm…that was my imagination. The conversation—it was sort of one-sided. We weren't listening to what the other person was saying."

"How so?" Ginny narrows her eyes.

"Ummmm… it was just our insecurities." Ron says, "We both imagined the other person was saying our biggest fears, I guess."

The awkward moments are too much to bare and so Ron finally asks for some privacy with Hermione. He thanks Hannah profusely, and leads Hermione over to a chair. "Listen 'Mione. I'm so sorry, that I did that to you. I can't believe that I blamed you for all this and had everyone hate you this summer. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Hermione shakes her head, "It's good to know the truth."

Ron nods his head, "This helps though, right? When you imagined that I called you fat, it triggered you're eating disorder, right? So, now you can stop worrying about your weight."

"Ron!" her face turns red, "Does everything have to be about that stupid belief you have that I have an eating disorder."

He takes a step back, confused. "What are you talking about? You agreed- You admitted it. Your anorexic. You told me in the hospital wing that you'd get better, you've promised."

"I was lying," Hermione throws her arms up into the air, "I was lying, so that you'd be relieved and we'd end up together. And, fine, maybe I don't eat. Maybe I exercise too much. But I don't see how that's a problem. I don't see how that makes me crazy. So I want to be skinny? So, what? It's not like I'm going to die."

"Hermione," Ron sighs, "You're just frustrated. You don't mean that. The books say that this is a fairly common response to recovery and –"

"Shut up about the damn books!" Hermione yells, "That's all you ever do, is talk about those stupid books you read. Ron it annoys the shit out of me. And the fucking way you try to control every minute of my life. Can I ever be alone, anymore? What do you think I'm going to do, make myself throw up in the bathroom, go running? Well, guess what? Even with you breathing down my neck, I do it all the time. I'm in control, Ron. And no matter how hard you try, I can do whatever the hell I want."

"What?" Ron turns red, "What do you mean?"

Hermione moves her fingers through her hair, unable to believe the word vomit that she let out. "Only a couple of times. Just a couple. Barely at all."

He can barely breathe, she sees that. He paces around the room and gives her these awful looks. "You know, I thought you were getting better. I thought you'd be better by Christmas."

She feels a tear fall down her cheek, "What don't you get? I don't need to be better! I'm fine. The only reason that I'm going along with all this is because I don't want to be sectioned. I'll eat and I'll gain weight, but it's not because I think I have an eating disorder, it's because you had to go and convince Madam Pomfrey that I'm some stupid anorexic!"

"Hermione," Ron sighs, "Don't do this. Please, you were doing so well."

"No," Hermione snaps, "Just leave me alone Ron. And don't think for a moment that anything has changed due to Hannah's memory. You may not have said it, but I'm glad I thought you did. It was the best thing for me, and I won't let you ruin that."

Ron wants to say so much. There are so many words that could appear out of his mouth. But all, he does is watch her slam the door behind her, leaving him to process all that she's said.


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Their eyes meet from across the lunch room. There is a silent conversation between them. It's like telepathy. They are each other's secret keepers, like sisters bonding over their hidden messages. _Wink_. They fake a swallow, smiling at their genius. They look away and rejoin the conversations at their tables.

Hannah and Hermione made a connection earlier this week, shortly after discovering each other's secrets. It's an automatic sisterhood that stems from their weaknesses and isolation. They rant about their so called friends and family, mock the school healer, Madam Pomfrey, trade tricks, and develop a full proof plan to win, or, more accurately lose. They're competing to see who can get the skinniest, it's friendly enough, but secretly Hermione is determined to make sure she's always bonier than Hannah.

Hermione sighs as Hannah turns away to respond to another Hufflepuff. She'll have to do with the other Gryffindor's for now. Yet again Ron and Harry are discussing Auror business, something as foreign to her as the idea of actually swallowing her food. The horror! Hermione rolls her eyes, even if it is their profession now, the basis of a mystery with regards to the dark arts is all too familiar. Still, the idea of getting paid for it and being granted full fledge employment is enough to make her envious of her peers. She's certainly had more experience than Neville. But, that part of her life is gone now, as exotic and repulsive as it is to any sane witch.

"I figured out who BB is," Ron looks around the table at his coworkers and onlookers with a hint of pride and triumph, "I found this in the library." He pulled out an old dusty book.

Hermione immediately feels a pang of some sort. _The library_. Yes, it had once been her favorite place. She'd spend hours looking through books, breaking into the restricted section and doing everything she could to find all the information she could. Partly, so the forces that the trio had to face would not be such a mystery. But in truth it was more like a hobby. She loved applying the contents of books and words to real world life, it was the near death experiences that she could do without.

Ron gives her a look, as if his only desire were to impress her with his intuition and intellect. "Barry Buddleman."

"Barry Buddleman?" Neville sighs, "I swear I know that name."

Hermione does. Back when she read, back when she was somewhat normal, she'd seen him in a library book_. It was a bit of light reading._ She glances at Neville, amused that he is one of the few students to have once owned a remembral and is completely oblivious of its inventor. But she's quiet, without the energy to butt in to the conversation.

"B.B. was the alias he went by; it was also the namesake of his company. B.B. moronic mnemonic memory devices."

"That so?" Harry says, "But what does that have to do-"

"Hermione," Ron looks at her, "I know you know. What was his most popular invention?"

She grimaces. She doesn't want to be a know-it-all anymore, but he did ask her…"The remembral," she mutters.

"Bloody," Neville smiles at Ron, "But what does that mean. In the eyes of B.B.'s soul. In the eyes of Barry Buddleman's soul."

"Shhhh!" Ron kicks Neville. His eyes dart over to Hermione, as if to remind Neville that she is not to be hearing this.

"What?" Neville glances at her nervously, "Mione doesn't care."

"What don't I care about?" her lips curl together tightly, "Now I want to know."

"You hear that?" Ron elbows Harry. His voice resembles sarcasm, but he's not exactly joking around. "Hermione, actually wants something. She's not a zombie."

Hermione rolls her eyes, gaining Hannah's eye contact. In moments they'll be done with their misery and can meet in the room of requirement. There they won't be controlled; they can be themselves.

"I can figure it out by myself," Hermione responds glumly.

"You will not," Ron furrows his eyebrows, "This is dangerous."

"Come on now," Hermione smiles, "You are going to tell me. Right? I mean after all the times I had to save you; I think I have some right to know."

"No," Ron shakes his head as the others kept their heads down, avoiding all contact, "Eat your beans, you haven't even touched them." She rolls her eyes and takes a bite. It doesn't matter, her silent apparition technique ensures that not a crumb of it will end up in her stomach.

"Don't worry 'Mione," Ginny rolls her eyes, "They won't let me know either." _Why would they? You wouldn't help any. _Hermione turns red; she can't believe she'd thought something so nasty and sarcastic about sweet Ginny. She had always been such a nice girl.

Hermione grunts, giving Hannah a nod, from across the dining hall. "I have to work on a transfiguration paper with Hannah."

"But 'Mione," Ron pleads, he never lets her alone, after their confrontation in the room of requirement. She'd been stupid enough to let him know a lot more than she wanted him too. And, now, he practically went to the restroom with her. He'd even taken her sneakers away so that she couldn't exercise."

"Relax," Hermione narrows her eyes, "I'm gaining weight." She had lost weight this week, but he doesn't know that. He doesn't have to know that at all.

"Just remember you have a weigh in, tomorrow," Ron adds, "Don't do anything stupid."

"It's noted," Hermione says sarcastically, leaving to talk to Hannah.

"Is it just me or is there something odd about that friendship?" Ron huffs, "Hermione barely used to talk to Hannah, and now they're never apart."

"Relax, Ron," Harry pats him on the back, "It's good that she has real good mate."

"We're her friends," Ron shoves his fork into his mashed potatoes, "She doesn't need Hannah Abbot. Especially with _her_ influence."

"What do you mean?" Neville looks at Ron peculiarly, "What's wrong with Hannah. She's a nice girl."

"She's too skinny for her own good if you ask me," Ron snorts, "She's turned into a skeleton, hasn't she? Probably not the best thing for our Hermione to be around."

"Don't be so daff Ron," Ginny sighs, "Hannah's an anorexic too. They're probably trying to work it out, together."

Ron mutters to himself. _I want to help her work through this. _ As Neville becomes a deep shade of red; his eyes widen. It doesn't take a genius to know that he has a thing for her. "I know," Ron pats his friend on the back, "Smart girls with a stupid disease. Which is why they shouldn't be hanging out together? They'll only make each other crazier."

"Ron," Ginny looks at him seriously, "You can't decide who she's friends with and what she does in her spare time"

"We'll see about that," Ron says under his breath.

Ginny huffs "She's eating, she's talking, and, after seeing what really happened that night, she's finally forgiven us. She's even managed to get her course work up. She's getting better; now let her have some fun."

Harry nods in agreement, this time he had to side with Ginny.

Ron scoffs. He hadn't told them about Hermione, it was a private conversation, after all. But it'd be good for them to know—_It's for her own good._ "I don't think she is. Hermione still doesn't think she has an eating disorder. She told me that she's fine, and that she's been running and throwing up her meals without me knowing."

Silence overtakes the table. Nobody knows what to say.

_Two digits_. Hermione clenches her jaw. She should be happy for Hannah, but for some reason she was uncomfortable. Certainly, Hannah didn't need to be 98 pounds. Maybe that was a bit too skinny for her, wasn't it? Hannah gave Hermione an enormous smile. "Finally," she laughs, "I thought I was going to be fattened up by Pomfrey, but then you came along."

Hermione smiles awkwardly. Well, Hannah doesn't need to lose any more weight, right? "Now you?" Hannah says, "Maybe you've reached your goal too?"

_85 pounds. Please 85. What a perfect number? 85… and I'd be happy._ Hermione steps on the scale, one foot at a time. She can't open her eyes as she moves her lips to the charm that will analyze her self worth in moments.

"I'm jealous," Hannah gasps, "How did you lose 5 pounds in a week?"

Hermione laughs, she'd won. She's lost more than Hannah, she's surpassed her goal. _84 pounds_. But then she stops herself, deciding that it isn't enough.

Hannah and Hermione go to empty the satchels full of chewed up food sewn into their robes. It had been Hermione's idea to sew them in. It was also her idea to apparate the food from their mouths to the satchels without wands. It took a lot of practice and an enormous amount of focus. But it was worth it. Silent apparition, she called it, it had turned out to be extremely useful."

"You know you're a genius, right," Hannah smiles at her, "Honestly, you're incredible."

"Sure," Hermione laughs, "And that's why I have absolutely no idea how to throw off the scale tomorrow."

Hannah smiles, "We'll figure something out."

Hermione is doubtful. Madam Pomfrey does a full body check for weights. Checking your legs and arms and torso, and her scale revokes any charm Hannah and Hermione attempt. But she doesn't want to disappoint Hannah, so she just responds with a simple nod and smile. "Yeah, it'll be okay."


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_Wednesday._ Hermione struggles to get out of bed. _Madam Pomfrey's going to poke and prod me today. _

Hermione's week has been brilliant, the best in months. She had developed a technique of diversion that is an act of brilliance on her part. All she does is chew on the food, repeat the spell in her head and imagine the food disappearing into the satchel's sewn in her robe.

Her silent apparition technique is fooling everyone and Hermione still gets to have the taste of food in her mouth. She's gone the whole week without actually swallowing anything. Sure, she's a bit more tired and drowsy than normal, but her act of being cheerful is definitely paying off. Everyone thinks the old Hermione is back. And it's nice to have her friends again, even if she does have to put up with them acting strangely around her.

She started getting her marks up to after Slughorn approached her about getting extra credit by being his assistant, cleaning things up and tutoring younger students in potions. Hermione doesn't know why Slughorn wanted her after her poor performance of late, but she agreed and is lucky to have the opportunity and unlimited access to rare ingredients. Hermione soon became an expert at the know-it-all potion and drinks it religiously before class. To the teachers it appears that she's back to her old studious habits and the Gryffindor house is grateful for all the points.

A sudden rap on the door causes Hermione to jump up. "I'm getting changed," she says quickly, wrapping her school cloaks around her skeleton-like body.

"Oh, sorry," She recognizes Harry's voice.

"Its fine," she glances at herself in the mirror. _Ugly, F*in cow!_ "I'm decent now."

"Hey," Harry peers in, "You coming down to Breakfast?"

"Course," She rollsher eyes when he can't see her face. "Come in. I'm just putting on some make up." She takes out her mascara and gently put it on.

"I thought you didn't wear that stuff," Harry looks at her curiously.

"I do now," She says.

"Since when?' Harry asked.

"This summer," She grabs her concealer and carefully applies it on the dark circles under her eyes.

Harry sighs, "Ron doesn't like it."

"Why?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"He thinks you don't need it."

"I do," She says, "And I don't care what Ron thinks."

"Of course not," Harry chuckles.

"I don't," Hermione laughed, "We're broken up."

"But you still have feelings for each other," Harry insists.

Hermione pursed her lips together she couldn't deny it, "What's it to you, if I do?"

He laughs, but soon becomes serious "It's okay to talk about stuff like this with your friends, Hermione. We're here for you."

"I know," Hermione whispers.

"You know the only reason we survived last year was because of our friendships. Because we stood strong together."

"Why are you talking about this?" she looks at him confused. She hates talking about last year. She wants to wipe it from existence.

"I'm just saying," Harry sighs, "That sometimes all you need is a friend. So if you want to talk?"

"I'm fine Harry," Hermione puts a brush to her hair.

"Really?" he looks dubious, "There isn't anything at all?"

"No," Hermione shakes her head, "Nothing. You?"

"Yeah," Harry looks relieved, like he wants Hermione's ear forever, "I can't do this," he blurts out

"What?" Hermione squints.

"Ron's been trying to get people ask you if you're still a virgin after this summer. He's been worrying non-stop."

"No," she blushes with chagrin, "Please tell me you're joking?"

"Nope," Harry says, "And to be honest. Hermione, you're like my sister I don't want to know if you aren't."

Hermione covers her face, "And I don't want you to know." She pauses before she mumbles, "How many people has he been asking."

"Half the year," Harry smiles.

"I'm going to kill him."

"I wouldn't blame you," he looks up at the ceiling. "He cares about you though. Especially, after seeing what really happened that night, he wants you back"

"I know," she focuses on the reflection in the mirror, "But sometimes I don't know why."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, "Don't be ridiculous. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"You have to say that," Hermione bites her lip, her eyes glued to the floor, "But you know that's not true."

Harry's eyes rapidly analyze Hermione, "Hermione what happened to you? You used to be the most confident girl I knew, but now…"

"I'm plenty confident," Hermione shuts her eyes and gives attention to the hunger pains in her stomach, in order to once again gain enough composure. For a few moments she had been weak. She had let Harry see her insecurities and now she's vulnerable. "Let's just go to Breakfast, "Alright?"

"Hold it," Harry stops her, "I can tell there is something that's bothering you."

"No," Hermione can't look in his eyes, "I'm fine."

"Hermione," Harry asks gently, "You should tell me what happened."

"Nothing," Hermione sighs, "I just didn't deal with last year the best I could; I over reacted. I'm not as strong as you and Ron. I couldn't handle it alone this summer. "

"Hermione, last year was hard for all of us," Harry offers, "So, whenever you're upset about it, you need to come to us. We'll help you through it."

"You're right, Harry," Hermione fakes a smile. _But why can't you just listen now? _She can never imagine herself going to Harry or Ron or Ginny or Neville or anybody when she is dealing with her flashbacks, when she is on the brink of mutilation and feeling miserably faint from self-starvation. No, she can never let them see her so weak, this is the worst it can ever get.

At breakfast Hermione finds herself eating, if you can call it that, without the company of Ginny and Ron. Harry apologizes for forgetting to let her know that Fleur went into labor last night and the two redheads have joined the rest of the Weasley clan at St. Mungo's. "I hadn't even known she was pregnant," Hermione mutters under her breath.

After breakfast, Hermione and Harry work on their potions homework. Half an hour later, Harry interrupts, "It's 9:30," He says plainly, "Ron made me promise I'd get you to the hospital wing by now."

"Honestly, Harry I don't need a babysitter," Hermione laughs, "And don't worry I have to see Madam Pomfrey _around 10_, and I can go by myself."

"Ron _insisted_ I go with you."

"Come along then," Hermione rolls her eyes, "I suppose he doesn't trust me enough to walk across the castle alone."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"2.3 kilos," Madam Pomfrey says with disgust. "In other words 5 pounds."

"Good," Harry smiles, naïve and oblivious, "Ron will be happy to hear it."

"Lost," Madam Pomfrey says sharply. Harry's face falls. "She's 84 pounds."

"I don't know what happened," Hermione fakes mortification, "I ate."

Madam Pomfrey doesn't believe her. Hermione recognizes the suspicion, apparently so does Harry.

"She did," he clarifies, "As much as possible. And we took away her wand so I know she's not lying." Hermione feels guilty but proud._ They were so completely naive. _See she's figured out another way to get rid of her food, and it doesn't demand a wand or puking pastille, just some excellent natural magical ability.

"Do you think she's been puking?" Madam Pomfrey asks Harry, "Someone's been staying with her after meals, I suppose."

"Not this week," Harry mutters, "We- we thought she was getting better. But umm… Ron said that she told him she's been doing it"

Madam Pomfrey sends a disapproving look towards Hermione. "Has she been exercising?"

Hermione stares as Harry sends her to the chopping block, "Yeah, Ron's caught her running…And she said that she's been doing it a lot."

"Skipping any meals?"

"Ummm… Breakfast a couple days ago."

"Really?" Madam Pomfrey raises an eyebrow to Hermione, "Have you given up on recovery?"

"No," Hermione insists, "I'm trying to gain weight. I don't know why it's not working."

The healer frowned, "If you don't gain at least 3 kilos by next week, then you're going to have to go to St. Mungo's."

"That's impossible."

"So is losing that much weight while eating a more than sufficient amount of calories," Madam Pomfrey turned red in the face, "Ms. Granger I can assure you whatever game you think you're playing, you are not in control. If you do not start taking your health seriously, you will not be alive to graduate."

"I am taking it seriously," Hermione cries. Sometimes she's amazed at how well she could act, it just came to her, these lies. And she didn't really have another option. If she told the truth, then she'd get sent off to St. Mungo's and she was not about ready to let that happen. "I'm trying to gain weight. I'm eating."

"With a set back like this. I think it'd be best if you start to see a mind healer," Madam Pomfrey turns to her desk to write something down.

"No," the word falls from Hermione's mouth almost instantaneously.

"It's not an option," Madam Pomfrey tutts, "If you with to stay at Hogwarts you will oblige."

Hermione fumes out, with Harry following her. She finds herself crying against a wall, out of the way of the majority of Hogwarts students. She needs some privacy.

"Be honest."

"I didn't throw up this week. And I haven't ran since Ron's caught me."

Harry looks at her, as tears pound down her face. "Then what did you do?"

Hermione raises her head, "It doesn't matter."

"Really?" He looks at her, "It doesn't matter that you're starving yourself?"

Hermione stares at him, "Hermione, Ron's killing himself over your eating disorder. He's working his arse off to try to get you better. Everyone's changed everything, because they're trying to get you better. And all you can say about tricking everyone is it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't," Hermione mutters. "Because I don't have a bloody eating disorder."

Harry looks at her confused, "Oh, yeah? Ron said you were in denial."

"I'm not in denial," Hermione crosses his arms, "I only agreed because I thought it was the only way for us to stop fighting. But I don't have a problem. I'm absolutely fine, and this is not what I signed up for."

Harry stands for a moment. "Hermione, you're 84 pounds. You have an eating disorder."

"I'm just thin. How does that make me some sort of anorexic?"

"Because you don't eat?"

She glares at him, before getting up, "And, where is your proof?"

Harry looks at her for a few minutes, "Go look at that diary of yours and decide if one grapefruit is enough to feed a person for the day."

Hermione feels her face tighten, walking away without comment.


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

She skips out on eating for two days, avoiding the dining hall at all costs. Not because she doesn't want to eat (even though she doesn't) but because she doesn't want to see Harry or Ron. Seeing their faces—their very disappointed faces—makes her squirm with discomfort and shame. Add the fight she had with each of them to the 5 pound weight loss she had last week, and they're just about as upset at her as she is with them.

She doesn't speak to Ron or Harry at all and they return the favor. Nobody comes to drag her to the dining hall or stop her from running around in the field and she likes it. There's a weird silence between them now, ominous and awkward as their eyes fail to meet in the hallway with so many unsaid words lining up on their tongues. It's fine for her. They were both frustrating her immensely with all their nagging, anyway. So she aims to prolong the icy silence and wandering glances for as long as possible.

Eventually, she knows Ron will show up to drag her to the dining hall, or he'll play the part of the weasel and blab to Madam Pomfrey. And that's fine, they can tell Madam Pomfrey all they want, Hermione'll insist she's eating and the scales will suggest the same. A smile braces her lips; she's collaborated with Hannah on a great new idea, sort of. It was actually, Pansy's idea, but they were implementing it.

Hermione sighs. Hannah sort of knows Pansy a bit since they have to go to this group for girls with eating disorders. Apparently that's why Pansy's become so skinny in the last couple of years-she's anorexic, or they tell her she is. Every meeting everyone has to say "I'm _ and I'm an anorexic." _But really, _Pansy tells her,_ Nobody actually means it_. Madam Pomfrey suggested she attend, but Hermione's maintained stubborn, that she will definitely not. It's all just a big farce, and Hermione knows that she's no good at pretending to be getting better from a problem she doesn't have. She'll fake eating and gaining weight to evade getting committed to St. Mungo's, but nothing more.

Hermione hates that Pansy's actually skinnier than her, but she uses these spells to put weights in her robes and to make her appear chunky to Madam Pomfrey. It's sort of genius. So now Pansy has lost weight, but the obnoxious healer has cleared her as not at risk. Once Pansy revealed her secret, the two insisted she teach them in return to learn their tricks. So now, they spend their breakfast, lunch and dinner hours exercising and teaching each other their tricks.

* * *

><p>Hannah and Hermione are practicing Pansy's fake weight gains spells tonight, and they've found them to be really easy, much easier than Pansy made them sound. But they don't say anything as she gives them an approving smile. Pansy occasionally gives them mindless critique, whilst she practices Hermione's silent apparition technique with much more difficulty.<p>

"Pansy," Hannah all of a sudden becomes hesitant, "What if it doesn't work? What if Madam Pomfrey finds out we're faking it. She'll send us all of to St. Mungo's, right away."

"And how will she do that?" Pansy asks, "Make us strip to our underwear?"

"She'd probably like it," Hermione casts a smile, and the three let out a soft giggle. They love digging into the healer together. She's associated with getting fat, an idea the girls can't stand. So she becomes enemy number one, just before their so called friends and family. Together, it's them against the world, an easier fight that it was alone.

"Just relax Han," Hermione gives a reassuring nod, "As long as we fake intervals of 1-2 kilograms of weight gain. We'll be fine. She won't suspect a thing."

"But-" Hannah bites her lip.

Pansy sighs with frustration, "Fine, don't do it Hannah. Stay a fat cow, and leave. You haven't contributed anything useful at all. I mean really, you're useless."

Hermione glares at Pansy and grabs Hannah's arm, "That's not true! Hannah's been plenty useful. Without her, I would've given up, we wouldn't have any of the ingredients for the potions, and we wouldn't have realized we could make the room of requirement into a gym to exercise, or a place to meet."

"Whatever," Pansy rolls her eyes, "Class is in 10 minutes anyways. Transfiguration with professor Capri. Do you have the know-it-all potion ready?"

"Just a one sip before each class," Hermione nods, and pulls out three flasks of clear green liquid. The girls had decided that they all needed to improve their grades. For some reason, they all had suffered from a serious academic decline as of late, and in order to keep up a good front they needed to stay more alert and knowledgable in class."

They each put a flask to their lips and put the remainding contents into a satchel in their bags, leaving the room with a bright sense of control and knowledge.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Ron grabs a seat next to Hermione, "I need to talk to you."<br>She ignores his whisper.

"I get that you're mad at me and Harry. You shouldn't be, but I get it."  
>No reply.<p>

"But you have to eat."

No reply.

"Just forgive us, and come down for dinner."

No reply.

"Fine," He hisses, "I get you're upset and don't want to be around us, but if Harry and I sit elsewhere, will you eat with Neville and Ginny?"

No reply.

"What you haven't gone fucking mute, too have you?"

Hermione rolls her eyes, as Pansy walks over. They'd made a plan to completely piss of Ron during transfiguration, give him a piece of his own medicine. Likewise, Hermione would help Hannah with pissing of Ernie, and Hannah would assist Pansy in torturing Malfoy, although it would be pleasant for all of them.

"Hey 'Mione," Pansy says with a quick wink, as if to say _I know using his nickname for you will irritate him._

"Hey Pansy!" Hermione uses her cheeriest voice and smile, so fake but very effective in producing the utmost bewilderment for Ron.

"You want to sit with me?" Pansy flashes a smile, "Draco's at the Ministry for interrogation."

Hermione nods, but the mention of Draco makes her apprehensive. It reminds of her companionship, a friend of Malfoy, a Slytherin, a supporter of Voldemort. But most importantly, it reminds her of the word engraved on her arm and the torture that Bellatrix put on her. She winces, but bites the inside of her lip to keep her on plan. Ignore the pain wheeling in her head, the flashbacks that are knocking at her door. _Just say yes._ The part that keeps her thin whispers. _Get rid of Ron._

"Yeah," Hermione smiles, "Of course. Who else would I sit with?"

Ron raises an eyebrow, "Sorry what?"

Hermione looks at him and laughs, "What can't handle sitting alone? Imagine a whole summer of it."

Ron grabs her wrist, "You're going to kill yourself. You're going to starve yourself to death."

"What? Just because I'm not following orders from you doesn't mean that I'm not eating. But, of course, I'm sure you think that without you to lead me, I'm sure to be an emotion wreck."

"You are," Ron gazes into her eyes as she pulls her hand from his grasp and slaps him. She opens her mouth in shock and Ron just blinks. It wasn't planned it just happened. And when she turns around, she discovers that Professor Capri has entered the class and saw her slap.

"Sit down Ms. Granger, Now!" Hermione gasps and turns bright red, she feels a little woozy. She whips around to plop herself down on the other side of the classroom with Pansy, but before her feet can move forward, Professor Capri's voice startles her again, "I said, now, Ms. Granger. There is a seat right next to you, sit in it."

Hermione mentally slaps herself and awkwardly sits down, "Sorry Professor."

Professor Capri nods her head, "I think its Mr. Weasley you should be apologizing too."

Hermione casts her eyes down to the ground. _So much for trying to get on her good side today._

* * *

><p>Today they're learning how to become amigi. Professor Capri purses her lips in between her sentences. She clearly thinks it's as silly as Hermione does. There are very few amigi in the world, so for the ministry to require that all N.E.W.T. transfiguration students develop the very rare skill is outrageous. But Professor Capri assures them that by the end of the year they'll have it down as long as they focus on it.<p>

Hermione stares at the board. Step One- turn your partner into his/her amigi with spells from pages 56 to 78. As soon as she looks to Pansy, Professor Capri narrows her eyes at Hermione and says "You're seat partner."

Ron smiles triumphantly, and all Hermione can think about is how last time he cast a spell on her it was to make her fat. She really doesn't trust him.

After a few minutes she turns Ron into a fox and he, in return turns her into a dolphin. As soon as she started flipping around, Professor Capri turned her back, along with a few other students who had ended up turning into fish. "Note to self, get a pool for Amigi lessons."

A few students laugh, but Hermione just glares. She has to go in a pool, in a swimsuit for transfiguration? Not happening.

"Listen, Ron," She bites the side of her cheek and focuses away from his eye contact "I'm really sorry about slapping you."

"Its fine," He laughs, "But I wouldn't call that a slap. It was more of a tap on your face."

Hermione rolls her eyes, "Whatever. I slapped you and I'm sorry."

Ron smiled and bit his lip, "All is forgiven." Then she hears him deliberately mutter "weak slap". He looks right at her as he's doing it, a playful smile on her face.

She returns the favor, "Was not."

"Mmmm…" He shakes his head, "Nope. And to be honest, I'm disappointed; you're usually an excellent slapper."

She shakes her head, "No really, Hermione. You usually have a lot of force and you put your hand so that it delivers this really sharp swat, while still putting a lot of long-lasting dull pain into it. It's great, really."

"Really Ronald?" Hermione cocks an eyebrow, "I didn't know you had so much respect for my slapping technique!"

Ron grits his teet and inhales darting his eyes away. It's all playful, and Hermione knows she'll regret this later. "Not quite. It's like I said, you just put off a very weak slap. You need a little more meat on the bones to deliver a real mmph."

Hermione give him a menacing look of anger, "Of course he'd bring it back to needing 'a little more meat'.

* * *

><p>As the class finishes up, and Hermione jots down the last few notes on the board, Ron decides to reignite some conversation, as random and insulting as it may be.<p>

"You know, you're a really ugly dolphin." Ron smiles, and Hermione turns away. At the sound of her frustrated huff he decides to correct himself, "Not ugly, just bony. Like maybe you've been a little scarce on the fish."

Hermione laughs, not as if she's happy or that he's funny. But like she's irritated, she's not though. His obsession with her weight amuses her. It's ironic and compulsive, and never waivering. He was so close to charming her back and then he had to go and say things like that. He could be a real twat at times. "What are you going to do? Force feed me Terry Boot, during our next amigi lesson?"

Ron smiles and shakes his head. Hermione can see the thought forming in his head. _Hermione's got her sense of humor back. _The bell rings, "Come to dinner."

She cast here gaze downwards, and blushes, "I don't know. I heard that there will be fish."


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

It hits Hermione like a brick wall, the realization that she is indeed not right. Perhaps, she is sick. Perhaps, she does have an eating disorder. Perhaps, she is starving herself. She has fainted, nearly died, has been pretending to eat, and has tricked Madam Pomfrey about her weight. She's now even in a full-fledged weight loss sisterhood. With two other members: Hannah Abbot and none other than Pansy Parkinson. That is what makes her realize that maybe she does have a problem—the fact that she's hanging out with Pansy Parkinson.

"'Mione," the door jolts open as Hermione was staring at herself in the mirror. Ron stops and analyzes the situation, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Hermione blinks, "I just was… thinking."

"Right," Ron looks uncomfortable, "So you ready?"

"For what?" Hermione asks blankly, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Hogsmeade," Ron looks even more out of place. He paces back and forth, "You didn't forget right. Because I have to take you. We can't be late."

Hermione grimaces. Both Madam Pomfrey and Ron were ecstatic when they saw the fake weight gain on the scale. 92 pounds was enough that Ron and Harry forgave her for last week. But to Hermione's dismay it still wasn't enough to completely please them. Madam Pomfrey was still insistent that Hermione see a mind healer for her eating disorder. And Ron agreed to make sure she goes.

"I thought we'd get something to eat, first," Ron explains as they leave the school grounds. Hermione sighs, the vanishing act is starting to get annoying and she feels guilty for wasting so much food. In the last week she's had a couple of mishaps, when she's actually swallowed the contents of her meals. She punishes herself, of course, by going to the room of requirement and working out for an extra hour.

"Three Broomsticks?"

"Closed today," Ron offers, "I heard Madam Rosmerta is off trying to find her sister. She hasn't come out of hiding yet, and doesn't believe any of the owls that Voldermort's dead."

Hermione cringes. She hates being reminded of last year. "I'm not going to Hogshead. The place gives me the creeps"

"Then Madam Puddifoot's?" Ron prods, knowing that they would be having tea at the most romantic spot in Hogsmeade.

"Fine," Hermione mutters.

The place is nice, except Hermione is unable to apparate her tea since it would seep through her cloaks. Hermione shuts her eyes; she doesn't have a solution so she'll have to swallow it. She relaxes a little, when she remembers it barely has any calories.

"So," Hermione tries to end the awkward silence between them, "Are you going to tell me about this auror business that you and Harry are so overwhelmed with?"

"The Hot chocolate here is great," Ron blushes as he attempts to divert the subject.

"You know Kingsley owes me a few favors, I'm sure I can get him to tell me."

Ron smiles, "Kingsley doesn't know about it."

"What?" she gasps, the curiosity, nearly killing her. "Kingsley's the Minister. He has to know."

"It's not ministry business," he says non-chalantly, "We've already found all the death eaters."

"What?" she's frustrated, "So, then why can't you tell me?"

He looks at her, "I don't want you involved. Harry and I both decided: no girlfriends."

"But I'm not your girlfriend."

"You were and you will be," He says with a cocky smile. She shakes her head, amused by his confidence.

"I'm sure Ginny's not thrilled about that," she laughs.

"And it's working nicely for me," he smiles, "There is finally a break from seeing my best mate snog my little sister."

"Is she that mad?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Furious," he says, sipping his tea.

"Then maybe you should take a tip from their situation and fill me in. I already know the part about B.B's soul. What more can hurt?"

"No, it's too dangerous for you. I've nearly lost you once before, I couldn't stand to feel that way again."

Hermione's throat constricts. She knows what he's referring to, and it's just too much. She can hear Bellatrix's voice in her head and she thought she was going to cry. "If it's that risky, then I'm sure the ministry ought to know."

He laughs, "With that, I suppose the ministry should have known when we were going to protect the sorcerer's stone, or enter the Chamber of Secrets."

She stares at her plate, "You have to tell me. Ron, I always helped. You need me."

"I do need you," He puts his hand on hers, "That's why I'd like to keep you alive, Hermione. I still love you. I couldn't live in a world without you," They stared into each other's eyes, "That's why you've got to get better."

Hermione sucks in some air. Her body tensed, a tear fell, and she couldn't help but feel completely vulnerable and out of control.

Ron nods his head, "I know."

_Madam Woodland. _Hermione stares at the sign above the town house. She feels embarrassed for entering a mind healer's office. She isn't crazy, or maybe she is. But either way she's unhappy about this situation. Ron's arm wraps around her waist. "Come on," he whispers, "Its cold out here." He guides her in as if she were a horse, unwillingly being led to slaughter.

The waiting room smells of fresh flowers and citrus fruits. It's decorated in an alarmingly sterile fashion. Hermione has never dreamt to think that such an ordinary, modern, muggle style room could lie in the old gothic style buildings of Hogsmeade.

"Hermione Granger," the goblin receptionist glances over at them. "We've been expecting you." She winces at his eerie demeanor as they follow him to the room in the back of the house.

Ron squeezes her hand to say good bye, but is stopped by an authoritive voice. "Hello," A pudgy haired woman with glasses sits in a sleek, bleached white chair. She gets up to shake both hands, eyeing Hermione ever so carefully as she does. When Ron turns to leave, she tells him to stay for the session to help her get to know Hermione. As soon as they all take their seats, she begins to write frivously on her scrolls.

"I'm going to be asking you a few questions, to get an idea of your situation. Be 100% honest. If not, I'm sure Mr. Weasley here will let me know. And that will be disappointing."

"Fine," Hermione chokes.

"What is your current weight."

"91 pounds," She gives the number from her last weigh in. Ron nods his head, verifying the number.

"And what do you think of that number, Mrs. Granger?" Madam Woodland asks, "Are you content with your weight?"

"Its fine," Hermione lies

"Really?" Madam Woodland narrowes her eyes, "Is that what you really think? What do you hear when I say 91 pounds?"

_Fat. . 11 pounds too much. 91 pounds too much. _Hermione chokes back, she can tell the truth. They already knew that she had issues. "It's too much," her eyes became fixed to the sofa.

"Do you have a history of any obsessive behavior or perfectionism?

"No," Hermione says.

Ron laughs, "Yeah," He tries to lighten the mood, "Hermione's always been a bit of a nut when it comes to her studies. She was obsessed. I don't think there was a book in the library that she hasn't read. Her priority was school, and anything less than perfect marks were unacceptable."

"That's hardly relevant, Ron," Hermione glares at him.

"On the contrary, Ms. Granger. Please, continue."

He looks alarmed, hardly expecting that what he said had anything to do with her eating disorder. "Well, she always had her head in the books. She was eager to answer every question and she knew every question. She read our school books before classes even started. She was always nagging Harry and I about our grades. The first few years, we could hardly get her to talk about anything else."

"You say see 'was'?" Madam Woodland looked at Hermione.

"I'm failing every class this year."

"Why?" Madam Woodland stared at her.

"I can't pay attention anymore. No matter how hard I try, I'm useless at everything I do."

"That must be hard?"

"I don't know. I don't care too much anymore." Hermione looked at the ceiling.

"You used to care, what happened?" Madam Woodland stared.

Hermione looked up at the sky, "I don't know." Madam Woodland motioned for her to continue, "I guess I stopped caring once I started to fail everything."

"That must have been hard?"

"I don't know," Hermione looked at the ceiling.

"It's her worst fear," Ron interrupted, "We faced Bogarts in are Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and Hermione's fear was failure."

"Is this true?" the healer looked at Hermione who was monkeying with sleeves of her jumper.

"It used to be," Hermione sighed, "But it's not anymore."

"What is your worst fear then?"

"I don't know." Hermione looked up. She didn't want to have to talk about such personal things.

"Ms. Granger?" The healer looked at her

"I guess it's getting fat," This is, surprisingly, a lie. Hermione's nightmares terrify her far more than gaining weight. Sure, she's obsessed with it, and she can't and won't let herself get fat, but Bellatrix and the pain of the crucio curse is far more frightening. It's unbearable. She cringes.

Madam Woodland notices this reaction, and so does Ron. Their concern is evident, but they don't say a word.

"Now," the healer says, "I've already heard about being on the run from Voldemort. Did anything else traumatic ever occur? Have you ever been cursed?"

"No," Hermione says

"Yes," Ron says, "She's a poster child of near death experience."

"No more than you," Hermione cries

"Yes," Ron said, "Quite a bit more, actually."

"But you're over it now, and I'm still a wreck."

"And why do you think that?" The healer butts in.

"Well I'm in a Mind Healer's office, aren't I?"

"And why are you in my office?"

Hermione paused, "They think I have an eating disorder.""

"Do you?"

"Maybe," Hermione looks out the window, "I don't know. I guess."

"Really," The healer seems pleased, "So you understand that you are ill."

Hermione focuses on the snow falling onto the tree outside. She doesn't speak for a few moments. "Yes."

"And you want to get better?"

"No, not really."


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Love? Anger? Frustration? Sadness? Disgust? Worry? Ron slams his head against his transfiguration book. He's never thought he'd be capable of feeling so much at one time. He examines the picture of Hermione on his desk; it's of her and him at the beginning of 6th year, before Lavender Brown, before the year of havoc, before the summer of isolation. They had just been "friends" back then, but to be honest he had felt something more for her even then. How couldn't he? She was just, in one word, amazing.

"Blimey Ron," Seamus laughs, "What are you trying to do to yourself?"

Ron scowls, "Oh shut it." His hands grip the picture on his desk as he moves over to his four poster bed. He can admire it more comfortably there.

"Stop being such a twat, Ron," Ginny lectures with a teasing ring that only a sister can pull off. He looks at her scrolled up in the arms of his best mate. It's one thing to see her all over a friend, but Harry? He's practically, Ron's brother, an honorary receiver of the infamous Weasley clan Christmas sweater, and a former resident of the Burrow. It's practically like incest.

"Don't you have some coursework to do, Ginny?" Ron grits his teeth, "Or do you have nothing better to do than to snog Harry?" But the couple laughs and rolls their eyes, choosing to ignore his remarks altogether. _Typical_.

Ron stares at the picture once more, as the framed Hermione begins to laugh. He's nearly forgotten how contagious her genuine smile can be. Ron launches his pillow into the air and slams his fist into the mattress below him.

"What is your problem?" Ginny nearly yelled.

"She said she doesn't want to get better."

It only reinforces everything he's been thinking. Hermione is now certifiably insane. She is not herself. She is not normal. And she needs serious help. Now.

The worst part is that Hermione is smart and stubborn. If she doesn't want to get better than she'll find a way to fool them all. So what is she doing? Ron hates this. He just wants her better. It shouldn't bet this hard to get someone to eat and be okay with it. Why is she starving herself? Why can't she just understand that he loves her and be happy again? Isn't it that simple? It's supposed to be.

According to everyone else it isn't. Ginny, Madam Pomfrey, that idiotic healer, and even the transfiguration Professor Capri all have lectured him on simply being there for Hermione. They tell him it's complex, it isn't simple, and that all he can do is just show her love and listen. Well Ron is tired of it.

Sure the scales suggest she's gained weight successively as the weeks pass. She's making some progress in therapy. And, fine, she's starting to return to her old personality. But is she really? Ron has an innate feeling that something is still wrong with her. He can just feel it.

She doesn't look any better, and she doesn't seem any happier. In fact, it's almost as if she's getting thinner. The bags under her eyes are becoming more prominent, empty and sad. Her smiles look more fake. Ron grunts in frustration.

A weary silence overtakes the room. And then Harry finally speaks, "Go talk to her." Ron looks up, his face scrunched together. He will. He has to do it, for her. He has to see her. He has to make sure she's okay.

He knocks on the door and she beckons him in. Her eyes stuck to the pillow. "You that tired?"

"Late night," She smiles, "And no I didn't run. I couldn't sleep. Which sucks because I have to patrol tonight?"

Ron smiles, remembering that Harry and him are taking a little detour to the restricted section for some reading on Barry Buddelman. It would be perfect if she'd let him patrol tonight or give the job to some oblivious 5th year prefect. "I'll do it for you."

"No," Hermione looks at him almost viciously, "I want to. I mean I have to. I mean. I only got Pansy to agree to patrol tonight because I am."

Ron snorts, "You're joking right?"

"No," Hermione narrows her eyes, "Pansy's not that bad once you get to know her."

He stops, in disbelief. "No, I'd imagine she'd be worse. Really, Hermione. I notice that you've been spending a lot of time with her. You realize who she is, who her friends are, and who she supported last year. She wanted us to give Harry to Voldemort. And now you're friends with her?"

"People change," Hermione says.

"No," He says firmly, "They don't."

"Then what happened to me?" She looks at him.

"That's different," He turns bright red.

"People change," She insists, "I changed."

"Clearly," Ron spits out, "You're right. You know, with the way you're acting. I'd half expect you to become a death eater, if this was last year."

She scoffs

"What?" He shrugs, "You always wear long sleeves. You're hiding something."

At that moment, Hermione is more than grateful for being a self-injurious witch rather than a self-injurious muggle, because the cuts she's made are no longer present on her arm, disappearing as easily as a simple spell So when he pulls up her sleeve, and his eyes lock with the single scar on her arm. _Mudblood._

He cringes, "I'm sorry. I forgot."

"its fine," she says a tear falling from her cheek.

When he realizes that she's crying, he quickly pulls her into his arms and rocks her back and forth. "I'm so sorry," He says, "I'm so sorry."

"No," She chokes, "It's f-f-fine. I j-j-just ne-eee-ee-eed to be al-l-lone."

He shakes his head and holds her tighter, "That's the last thing you need."

They stay like that for hours, 4 ½ to be exact. She weeps into his shoulder, and he comforts her and soothes her. It bothers him, scares him, worries him, but he thinks it's good. She needs to cry, because maybe if she cries than she can deal with stuff without needing hunger to do it. And the truth is, he should have been there this summer to help her deal with all this stuff, but instead she used an eating disorder to help her get through it. Pretty great coping mechanism, huh?

As he sits there, he wishes that he could've had the privilege of killing Bellatrix, rather than his mother. The rage is building up inside of him as his eyes dart back and forth in between Hermione's pained expression and the scar on her arm. His mind reels with the memories of sitting in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor listening to her screeches, and her desperate, tortured eyes when he saved her. So much pain and so much hurt, and somehow he'd managed to forget how it had affected her. He'd been unable to remember that part of the year. He'd remembered how he'd felt about possibly losing her, but he'd forgotten the torture that was inflicted upon her. And now it was staring at him black and white.

So he decides that he'll do the next best thing—beat Malfoy to a pulp.

"It's okay," He whispers in her ears, "It'll be okay."


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

She's mortified that he's seen her break down. Mortified, that he's caught a glimpse of her pain. And she's also sort of furious.

With Ron there, she couldn't use her typical coping mechanisms, and was forced to cry out all those tears. She'd be lying, if she said it wasn't more unbearable and daunting than even she had presumed. It would also be a falsehood, if she denied that all those tears made it a little bit easier to think about last year. Like, in some sense, she'd cried out some of the pain.

When Ron finally says he has to go, and Neville will stay with her while he's gone. Hermione is even more embarrassed. Does the whole world have to see what a wreck she is? But she agrees with a simple nod as the tears keep coming.

Neville comes as soon as Ron asks, and Hermione tries to stop crying. She doesn't need Neville to see all the pain she's in. She doesn't want him to think any less of her. "It's okay 'Mione," Neville grabs her eye contact, "I get it."

Hermione looks up, confused. _He gets it? Gets what? _"There's nothing to get, Neville," She snaps, "I'm fine, really."

Neville shakes his head. "Ron told me this is about the scar that Bellatrix gave you."

Hermione quivers, "It's not just about that stupid scar."

"I know," He says, "It's probably got a lot more to do with the crucio curse."

She whimpers at the word, nodding her head in shame. He doesn't say anything for a moment, merely hoping that she'll speak. "I get it 'Mione," Neville grunts, "I do. And you know you can talk to me, to any of us. But I really do get it. Last year, it was my daily punishment. So I get it. But I also get, that Bellatrix's crucio's are infamous for being exceptionally brutal, maddening even. Look at my mum and dad. They aren't the only ones who went mad after a few minutes with her."

Hermione nods, a tear once again emerging. "I'm sorry about your parents, Neville."

"It's okay," Neville says, "I just want you to know that it's okay for it to bother you. It's affected people a lot worse."

She takes a breath because she's trying to believe it. She hasn't thought about it that way, about how maybe the reason she's not as okay as someone like Neville or Harry is because she dealt with Bellatrix. But all she can think about is how, Harry died last year and faced Voldemort, and how Neville became the guinea pig for Dark Arts demonstrations. All she can think is that they should be tearing up a whole lot more than her.

But she doesn't say anything, just nodding her head as though she understands and agrees with Neville. The truth, however, is far from it. All she can think is that she has no excuse. She is weaker than Neville and Harry. She is a poor excuse for a Gryffindor.

A poor excuse for a person.

A poor excuse for a witch.

A poor excuse for a life.


	24. Chapter 22

_**A/N: Sorry this update took so long. It's lengthier and different from past chapters. This is the halfway point of the story. It's not really an individual story arc, but lots of different important mini events I want to include that take place before the holidays.**_

**22. Until the Holidays part 1**

Weeks pass, and Hermione fools them all, even the pompous school healer.

_Stupid bitch._

"Good job, Hermione!" Madam Pomfrey tells her as she marks down another fake 3 pound weight gain, and all Hermione can do is smile because the genius of it is marvelous. She looks at Ron whose practically beaming with pride. 10 pounds in 3 weeks, she's amazing. Except that she's really not.

_Now_, Hermione thinks _if I could just lose that much._

* * *

><p>The next couple of days are great. Harry's more comfortable around her, Neville isn't as watchful during dinner, and Ginny lets her choose how much she eats at meals. Ron is so proud her he buys a gold heart-shaped locket. She's not sure why he does this, since they're not together.<p>

"Because I love you," he whispers as he clasps the metal around her neck.

She begins to shudder. The last locket she wore was too much for her to handle; it tormented her, menaced with her thoughts and sent her tiptoeing into the outer realms of depression. _But this isn't a horcrux, it's just a gift. _She tries to reason with herself, but it doesn't matter. She won't wear it.

Ron is taken aback, his eyes beating red. And she can read his mind his insecurities. "Not yet," she lies, "Not till I'm all better. You know, I love you Ron, but I don't know if the drama of a romantic relationship would mess with my recovery."

Ron nods his head in agreement; he can take that. In fact, he smiles. "I'm so proud of you." _Don't be._

* * *

><p>She doesn't miss a meal, and she doesn't leave anything on her plate. And everyone's so happy she's getting better. They smile a little more at her, and they don't treat her like she's crazy. If they knew that she was apparating the food to her satchel, she's certain they'd hate her. And if her real weight was ever found out, they'd have her committed. And she hates that.<p>

* * *

><p>"Ron tells me you want to get better," The mind healer says to Hermione at her second appointment.<p>

"Yes," Hermione says, hesitantly. "But, um...when did you speak with Ron?"

"Oh," the healer braces herself, "I had a little chat with your friends a couple weeks ago, just to learn a little more about you, and to talk with them about coping and supporting you."

Hermione's muscles flex a little more tightly. Why hadn't they told her? And what did they say? And why do they need help coping with her eating disorder? Why do they need to support her? Hermione masks her scowl with a weak smile, "Oh, okay."

"So, it's okay with you?" the healer tilts her head, "It doesn't bother you a little."

"It's fine," Hermione lies.

"You don't care what they said? You're not curious?"

"No, not really."

"And they didn't tell you about it?"

"No."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it?"

The healer is obviously fustrated and sighs as she jots down notes. Hermione wonders what she'd say if she knew the truth about how pissed Hermione is about the ordeal.

* * *

><p>There are rules to follow. Gain weight, smile, eat your food, don't exercise, go to therapy. But when she's with her 'sisters' it's a whole other game. They know how to break the rules, and that's what she loves. They meet in the room of requirement every day to obsess over thinspiration and complain about how fat they are. They work out on treadmills and elliptical, and empty the food in their satchels. They make potions and perform charms to fool everyone and reverse the side effects that they're admittingly unhealthy actions cause.<p>

They're inseperable, and Hermione's favorite time of the day is when she can just be herself with Hannah and Pansy. It's not just the ED stuff, too. They talk about everything- boys, gossip, coursework, family stuff. Hermione knows that Hannah's crushing on Neville, and he on her. So, she tries to get them to date. She also listens to Pansy complain about how Malfoy's pressuring her to put out, but how he really is sweet when he's not talking about sex or how she should eat more.

In return, they know about Ron. How she sometimes loves him, but at times loathes him. How even though there break up turned out to be a weird accident, they can't get back together because of her eating disorder. And, how he'll die to protect her and she'd do the same for him. They listen and comfort her when she cries because she just loves him so much. They send him glares in class after the two lovebirds have a fight. They support Hermione, and Hermione admits that she needs it.

They're her friends, her family, her support, her sisters.

* * *

><p>Weeks pass, and the process of fooling everyone continues on and on. Until it stops working.<p>

It happens in transfiguration, when they're all working on their amigi. Hermione doesn't wear a swimsuit even though she's stuck in a pool while she tries to become a dolphin. She was the first one to make significant progress. She can develop fins and a beak and turn a motley grey, but her consistency is lacking. Ron's quite amusing though as he develops a signature reddish-orangish fur when he makes his attempts.

But then chaos breaks loose, and Hermione is unable to make out what's happening. After a few moments, it is finally revealed to her that Pansy had just collapsed and is being taken to Madam Pomfrey's. Everyone is told to go to their dormitories except for Ron. He's headboy, and they'd aske her to stay but she's too close with Pansy.

An hour later, Ron arrives at her dormitory, exhausted. "Hey," he says. She looks at him, but doesn't speak. So once again he takes over the silence of the room.

"Hermione…" he moves his arms around her, "Pansy's dead."

* * *

><p>5 bags of chips. A tray of doughnuts she snuck from the prefects meeting. And pizza and chocolate cake she ordered from the kitchen. <em>Fat worthless cow.<em>

How could she do something so stupid? It's utterly revolting. What possessed her? _Weak._ Pansy's dead, and Hannah wants to get better. And the truth is she has no idea what she wants anymore. All she knows is that without their support, she's relying a whole lot more on her own self-discipline, and, for once, it's finally faltered.

She stares at the mess from her binge, her guilty feast and breaks down into tears. But she can redeem herself. She stuffs a puking pastille down her throat, and, within moments, she finds herself kneeling over a porcelain toilet bowl. You'd think that barfing out one's guts wouldn't be relieving, but when she's in control it's always pleasant.

She gets up off of her knees and stares at her reflection. _Who is this girl? What have I turned into._

It's a Saturday when it happens again. And the numbers on the scale reflect that when she honestly gains 3 pounds this week. She has too many feelings to contain, and it's not getting better.

* * *

><p>On Wednesday she pretends to reach her healthy target weight of 100 pounds, and Madam Pomfrey says that she's free to go for the holidays. No more threats of St. Mungos, but she has to promise to get better. So, she crosses her toes and says she will.<p>

"You should come to the new house," Ron says, "It'll be nice."

"I wish I could," she smiles at him, "I promised my mum and dad that I'd spend this Christmas with them."

"Then they should come too."

"Is that allowed?"

"They've been in the Wizarding world enough that they'll be fine," Ron says nonchalantly, "But I'll check with Kingsley and Dad just to make sure."

"Good," She smiles, remembering with fascination the joys of past Christmases with the Weasleys.

* * *

><p>Everyone watches her a little bit more carefully than usual after Pansy dies. They know that somehow Pansy was tricking Madam Pomfrey and her friends, and they secretly wonder if Hermione is too. Ron won't lie—he definitely has his doubts. She looks thinner, not healthier. Her color hasn't returned, the warmth of her hands has disappeared, and he can still see all her bones.<p>

He tries to convince himself it's all in his imagination.

* * *

><p>Hermione stares at Draco from across the room his black eye still there from a recent confrontation with Ron and Harry. "What are you doing here?"<p>

"Is it true?" He asks, "You're an anorexic because of what happened at my house during the war?"  
>She doesn't respond. Her eyes glance at the clock because Pansy should have arrived by now to do rounds.<p>

He takes her answer as confirmation, "I'm sorry."

"Forget it," Hermione chokes, "Dumbledore's dead because of what you did. If anything, feel guilty about that."

His head falls down, "I do, every day."

"Why are you here?" Hermione narrows her eyes. She doesn't trust him, despite the fact that he's going out with Pansy and she hangs out with that group once in a while. She's gotten to know Draco a little bit and has learnt that he regrets last year and can be nice when he's not trying to play the Prince of Slytherin persona.

"To take Pansy's spot," Malfoy says, somberly

"What?" Hermione begins to tear up. How could she have forgotten? How could she have not remembered something like that? That Pansy is dead.

"I knew she wasn't really getting better, so I searched her dormitory. Sure enough, Hannah came forward today and admitted that Pansy had been apparating food into the satchels of her pockets and was hiding weights in her robes. She admitted that she'd been doing it to.

Hermione gasped, "What?"

"You didn't know about this?" Malfoy asked.

"No…" She faked a stammer, "No… I thought they were both getting better. We'd made a pact to get better together."

"That's the problem with anorexics. They'll lie and lie to protect their disease." When Malfoy says this Hermione wonders if he's hinting at something else rather than Pansy's own dishonesty. The way he looks at her, directly in the eyes, all knowing.

"Hey," she says softly, "You realize you're talking about me too, right?"

"Yes," Malfoy's voice is haunting. "I know I am."

The two students set off to do rounds together, in the awkward silence of a night in the Hogwarts Castle. _He's a death eater and I'm a muggle born._ Hermione had to admit, she'd much rather be walking alone than in his presence. She questioned whether the prefects' safety policy was the actual safer option in her situation.

_He's a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor._ His abnormal kindness towards her was a strange abnormality when they had previously been adversaries.

_He's a boy and I'm a girl._ She delved on the idea of her current vulnerability. If he wanted to he could so easily rape her, have his way with her. He'd been in Voldemorts inner-circle, she was sure it wouldn't be _such_ a stoop lower for him to abuse a woman's innocence in such a manner.

They continued around to hallway between the library and the hall with the fat lady's portrait where they heard a few footsteps, but saw nothing. Automatically Hermione recognized the phenom as Harry and Ron's use of the Invisibility cloak. "Take it off, Harry," she said, "I know it's you."

Suddenly out of the appearance of nothingness, Harry and Ron were revealed. Ron's face was red and bloodshot, "What the hell are you doing with that death eater?"

"Honestly Ron, what do you think we're doing?" Hermione gave him a dignified eye roll, "I'm scheduled in for rounds tonight, unlike you, whose just broken curfew."

"Head boy business," He responded curtly.

"More like a trip to the restricted section," Hermione coughed, "Give me that book."

"Come on, Mione," He said softly, "Don't do this."

But she did, quickly grabbing the book from his clutches and noting the title, before giving it back. The Hidden Secrets of the Death Chamber Archway. It takes her all but a second to figure out what's going on-Sirius. Her face turns red, and her muscles stiffen. "Draco," her voice is airy and emotionless, "Please find your way back to Slytherin. You will not be needed for rounds tonight. Thanks."

She heard the scurried steps as Malfoy hurried off. "What do you think you're doing, Ron?" She stares at the book feeling like she's about to throw up at the idea of Ron and Harry messing with such powerful magic.

"Funny I was about to ask you the same thing." Ron sputters out, "Why are you doing rounds with that death eater and calling him Draco. You realize who he is, right? What he did to you?"

Hermione's fingers tense. "I think the better question is why I caught you two with this book after curfew."

"We can't tell you," Harry says, "We'd love too, but we can't."

"Oh god," She looked at the ceiling, "This has something to do with all your secrecy. That 'auror' business. Doesn't it?"

Harry nods as Ron tries to deny it.

"You idiots!" Hermione fills her heart beat a little faster, imagining what they might be planning, "Don't try to mess with that archway. Sirius is dead, and that's that. You'll only be endangering yourselves!"

"But, Hermione, if there's a way to save Sirius, if he's not completely dead, than I have to try."

She can barely breathe, staring at Harry. She can't lose him again. And Ron, oh shit. No, she will not let them do something so horrible. "Well, at least tell me you have a plan, a safe plan."

"We're not exactly sure about anything yet" Harry says as Ron stares at her bitterly.

"Oh no," she breathes quickly, "You're not doing something so reckless without a plan."

"We're figuring it out," says Ron, "And I'm sorry, but we don't need _your_ input." _Kind of like how I don't need your input about eating._

She thought all the danger was over, that her world was stable and safe. She was supposed to be in control, and Harry and Ron going off on a suicide mission was not in her agenda. "If you go, I won't eat anymore."

"Then you'll be hospitalized," Ron says.

"I'll warn Kingsley or McGonagall," she says again, "They'll do something about it."

"Don't do this 'Mione," Harry says, "We've done more dangerous stuff than this. You should understand."

"I don't understand," She says, "I thought all that stuff was over."

"It is for you," Ron looks her in the eyes, "You'll never be in danger again. You don't need to be worrying anymore, and that's why you need to let us deal with this alone."

All she can hear is the word 'alone'. They don't want her anymore. She's not part of the trio anymore. And so she just walks away, swearing that she's done with those two and all the mayhem they create. _To be fair, I wouldn't be half the mess I am if it weren't for those two. _She's always fought for Harry, risked everything for him. She'd basically figure out everything and prepare them for any situation, but in the end it was always Harry and Ron that got to bask in the glory. She wondered if they could last without her, and it frightened her to no avail.


	25. Chapter 23

**A/N: Can someone please review. It's really discouraging when no one or just nobody comments. I mean is anyone reading this? Is there a point of me posting anymore? Just let me know what you think of the story- complimentary or constructive. I don't know if this is a good chapter, but I tried.**

**23. Part 2 before the Holidays**

The rain falls onto the castle in a merry rhythm. _Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop! Plop!_ Hermione stares out a window, as Neville, Hannah, Luna and Ginny drone on in the background about something or another. It's been a tough week, so she thinks it's only fair that she's lapsing in the 'being social' department.

"So how 'bout it?"

She turns to see the whole group looking at her, "How about what?"

Ginny sighs, "How about forgiving my moronic brother and my adorably clueless boyfriend, so that we can all go to Hogsmeade as a group?"

"I don't know-"

Ginny smiles at her as she draws attention to Neville and Hannah "You have too, 'Mione. I finally got these two to agree to a date, but it'll only work if you go with Ron, I go with Harry, and Luna goes with Ernie."

"What?"

"Ron already agreed, so now it's up to you?"

She looked at both Neville and Hannah who are practically begging her with their eyes. "Alright, I suppose."

"Thanks 'Mione," The new lovebirds look at her, with genuine enthusiasm, dancing across their faces. _And now I just have to deal with Ron._

The group continues with their banter, as Hermione rests her head against the icy window. She shivers in the frosty air, despite the layers upon layers of clothes she has on. And she feels like she could fall asleep at any moment. She's exhausted.

After a few more minutes of pretending to pay attention, she excuses herself to go take a nap. And Luna begins to say that maybe she has some sort of mythical magical creature that Hermione's never heard of before. Hermione gives her a gentle smile, as she grabs her bag filled with the school work they had planned to do together, but had never gotten to.

"Wait," Hannah leaps up, "We'll walk together. I have to talk with you."

"Fine," Hermione gives her a lazy smile. She misses talking with Hannah. Ever since Pansy died, and Hannah decided that it was her wake up call to get better, Hermione hasn't talked that much with her best friend.

As soon as they get out of ear shot and eye sight, Hannah hisses to her that they need to sit. "What?" Hermione says.

"This has to stop!" Hannah bursts out.

"What?" Hermione narrows her eyes

"She died!" Hannah begins to cry, "She died, and it's all our faults."

Without clarification, Hermione knows she's referring to Pansy. She rolls her eyes and tries to mask all the guilt, fright and utter mortification, with the same carefree blasé attitude that she would use to talk about the weather. "She knew what she was doing."

"We should have stopped her," Hannah let out a whisper, "We should have stopped. And now we should stop! You should stop!"

"You go ahead," Hermione tilts her head, "Stop. I understand."

"She died," Hannah glares at her, and stomps her feet. "She died because she wasn't eating and tricking everyone. That could be us."

"Fine," Hermione says, "Then don't do it."

Hannah looks at Hermione, "I'm going to have to live with the guilt of Pansy's death for the rest of my life. And I don't need to deal with the guilt of yours as well."

At this sentence, Hermione's adrenaline perks up. Hannah would tell on her? "We swore, no matter what. We would never tell about each other. We made the unbreakable vow."

"That's fine," Hannah says, "But don't you think that when I tell Madam Pomfrey that I've been doing the same thing that killed Pansy, she'll get suspicious of you as well. You're friends are already wondering if you're tricking them. They'd almost be certain if I-"

"Don't you dare," Hermione's mouth clenches.

"You're worse than me, Hermione. I know how much you weigh, and it's less than Pansy's. It's not even possible. You're going to die. You may be masking all the side effects and warnings your body's giving you with potions, but in the end it's no food, and you're going to die."

"No," her voice raises, "I'm not."

"It doesn't matter," Hannah says, "I'm done with starving myself. I'm telling Madam Pomfrey and Ernie. I want to get better, and if that means you will too, than that's great."

Hermione is speechless. This is so out-of-character for Hannah, the meek, sweet girl who'd listen fondly to Pansy and Hermione as they'd plot and plan how to lose weight and trick everyone in the process.

Hannah just turns around and walks away, leaving Hermione to stare at the girl who might, Hermione believes, ruin her life.

* * *

><p>Ron stared out the window at the storm pounding onto the castle. "Ron," Harry says kindly, "She'll come around."<p>

Ron sighs and turns to Harry, "I'm not so sure."

"Neville hasn't come back yet. She might have said 'yes' to Hogsmeade."

"She didn't."

A silence looms over the room, and begins to menace with their minds. Ron can't help but think that Hermione will never forgive him. But just as the daunting sense of fear begins to gobble him up, Neville walks in. It's been a long day, and neither Ron nor Harry have seen him at all. "She said that she'll go," Neville says dully, unaware of the impact his words will have.

Ron burst into ecstatic jumps around the room, and starts shaking everyone with the same enthusiasm and excitement that someone who'd just won The Great Wizarding Lotto would show. Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Harry laugh at their friends evident joy over the love of his life. As he flips off of his four poster bed onto Harry's, he wonders just how well the date will go, but who cares? The important thing is Hermione forgave him, and they're going on a date.

_Hermione has forgiven me! Hermione is going on a date with me!_

* * *

><p>The eight young wizards and witches meet up in the great hall for breakfast. Each sitting by their respective date. Hermione notices the fuzzy, lovey dovey eyes and cuddling between Harry and Ginny, the exciting new chemistry between Hannah and Neville, and the awkward forced conversation between Luna and Ernie, who had in all respects been forced down each other's throat in the fashion of a blind date.<p>

She feels the comforting warmth of Ron's presence beside her, and wonders where they fall. Ron puts a second helping on her plate, and she immediately relates to Luna's predicament. Why did her friends force her to do this?

"I'm actually full," she says, almost a whisper.

"Hermione," Hannah looks over at her, "Why are you wearing your robes? That's a little strange isn't it, since it's a weekend."

Hermione's eyes narrow at the blonde. "I just forgot that there wasn't any class today."

"Really? That's strange." Hannah says, turning back to her conversation with Neville.

Ron gives both girls quizzical looks, but for the most part ignores it. _Girls are weird. There's no use in trying to explain it._

* * *

><p>Hogsmeade is nice, romantic, and fun. It's easy to smile as she walks around the streets with Ron's muscular arm around her. At times random wizards and witches approach them for pictures, autographs or just to thank them. It's weird they know Hermione's name. It's weird when a cute little girl with pigtails approaches them, her hand in her mother's, and says that she wants to be just like Hermione when she's older. Hermione prays that this will never come true. This girl should never be as miserable as she is.<p>

Understandably, the group wants to go to Honeyoaks, but Hannah and Hermione feel best if they could wait outside. It's not unexpected, and for once nobody argues. "I'm still trying to get better," Hannah says.

"And so am I," Hermione echoes.

"No," Hannah looks at Hermione, a ghost in her eyes, "I know you aren't. I could tell at Breakfast; sometimes you forget to swallow."

Hermione swears to herself and leans up against a pole. "So what are you going to do if Ernie blabs to the whole school or Madam Pomfrey sends you to St. Mungo's."

"I know Ernie won't do that. And if he tells a few friends, I wouldn't mind. I know I need support to get better. As for being hospitalized, if she thinks I need it, then I probably do."

Hermione breathes in heavily, "When are you doing it?"

"Next week," Hannah says, "I'll tell Ernie first, and he'll drag me to Pomfrey's. He'll make sure I get better. He's a good friend, you know?"

"No," Hermione sighs, "I don't."

Hannah looks into Hermione's eyes, "You have so many people who are giving everything to help you. Sometimes it makes me jealous, and then you can't even see it."

Hermione's eyes go down cast as she shifts in the snow. "It's cold out here."

Hannah smiles, gesturing at the candy store. It's the other, far-less appealing option. "But could you deal with that?"

Hermione laughs, "Mmm... I do love the snow."

They glance at each other, red in their faces, teeth chattering. And they laugh together, like old times or new times or whatever you'd call it. There is an inside joke, a piece of history that they alone share. And then the moment ends, with a certain pure-blood tow head making his way over to them.

Hermione wishes she could disappear.


	26. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who reviewed. I know I said I'd make this last 40 chaps, but I think this will end up being around 30 chaps. But if I get enough review for the story (prob. around 75), I'll make a sequel. So... Yeah. Also, sorry about the last 2 chapters. I don't know what I was thinking they're pretty bad, and after I posted I caught a bunch of tense changes and grammer mistakes. I hate when that happens, I need a Beta. Hopefully, this chapter will be a little better, but it's mostly dialogue. Anways, Read and Review. **

**24. Before the Holiday's Part 3**

_Kill me now._

"Abbot! Granger!" he nods curtly at them, stopping to take in their failing figures.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Hannah responds exasperated.

"Just wondering how you were?"

"We're fine, Malfoy."

"Really, and that's why you're shivering out here instead of going in the shop."

"Shut it, Malfoy."

"I'd rather not," he hisses, "See, I wanted to know which of you girls came up with what tricks, so that I know who to blame Pansy's death on."

Hermione looks at Hannah who seems to be on the verge of tears. Both were unable to say anything; so, Malfoy went on with his little rant. "But then I remembered that she did it to herself. That if I want to blame it on anyone I should blame it on the lying, selfish bitch. Just like, when you two die, you'll be the only ones to blame. What will it be Granger? In one- two months. And you Hannah, you've still got a few more imaginary ounces to lose, don't you. You'll last half a year. And I feel like shit about it because Hannah, you're all your dad has in the world. And we both know that Potter and Weasley will go senile when their little miss perfect Granger isn't around to get all the house points anymore. But oh wait you haven't gotten any all year, have you? And-"

But just as he was going to continue, Hermione felt the familiar voice of Harry behind her, "What do you think you're doing here Malfoy."

"Just talking to Abbot and Granger about my dead girlfriend," He gave off a sadistic smile.

"Don't upset them," Harry steps in front of Hermione as if to shield her.

"What you think I'd hurt them?" Malfoy laughs, " No. No. No. No, see I'm the one whose trying to help them, and you're the one whose letting them get away with starving themselves."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't Granger tell you? Pansy was apparating the food in her mouth to satchels in her robes. And she put muggle weights in her robes to trick the scales. And I'm pretty sure that anyone who actually looked at these two would agree that they don't look like they're at a healthy weight."

Hermione felt Harrys gaze against his face, "Is it true?"

"I didn't know," She whispers the lie.

"Hannah?" he turns to ask the blonde.

There is a moment pause, and Hermione feels like she's about to fall over from the worry that Hannah's going to reveal their secret. "Yes. I was doing that."

Harry mutters a swear word under his breath, "And what about Hermione?"

Hannah lets off a tear, "I can't tell you."

Harry turns to his best friend, a girl who's grown to be his sister, "Can you just tell the truth? For once just tell the truth."

"I can't believe you think I'm capable of something like that."

"Hermione," Harry begins.

"Leave me alone," Hermione pushes both Harry and Draco aside as she storms off into the distance.

* * *

><p>Ron emerges with a bucket of candy to a tearful Hannah and a pissed of Harry. "Where's Hermione?" he asks.<p>

"She ran off, after Potter asked if she was cheating the scales and apparating her food," Malfoy said nonchalantly before heading off to hang out with his own friends.

"You mean that she's not better?" Ron looks at Harry, begging him to negate the question. But Harry just nods his head.

"I'll take care of it," Ron says.

* * *

><p>The moment Hermione walks in her dorm room she grabs a blade. She needs to forget that her secret may be out, that she may be committed, and that Ron will be so disappointed. She can't stand the thought of anyone, escpecially him finding out. And it's all Malfoy and Hannah's fault.<p>

A wicked smile appears on Hermione's face. It's so twisted, so sick. How can she take so much pleasure in something that is so painful? Hermione swears. It's too good or too not good. It just feels better. That's the word she was looking for - _better_, almost addicting. _Better. Better. Better._

Cutting just makes things _better,_ easier, simpler. Hermione lies back, letting the pain soak in. The physical pain is _better_ than the pain inside her head, inside her heart. This is _better_ than focusing on the rest of the world. This is _better_ than anything else in the world. This is her survival technique, and it's going to work.

She won't fix the wound now; she can do that after a few minutes of _real_ therapy. She doesn't need that idiotic healer who charges an even more idiotic price. A sharp edge against her skin can do enough damage to wipe away all the "bad" pain.

She ignores the gushing blood, the way it laces the sheets beneath the mutilation. Perhaps it has gone too deep, but it would be easy enough to fix, later. She won't die or anything. She just needs a few minutes.

Then _he_ bursts in without notice. He's unaware of what he was walking into. She's unaware of his presence.

One four letter word falls from each of their mouths.


	27. Chapter 25

**A/N: Alright guys, I'm sorry that I posted that last Author's note I had up yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. But it's nice to know that people like the story, and I'm sorry for wasting your time with that. Alright, yeah I'll definitely finish this story up. And thanks for responding, escpecially those who gave really good advice on how the story could be made better. Anyways, here's chapter 25. It may have a little bit too much dialogue because this chapter is basically Ron confronting Hermione about everything. Anyways, Read&Review.**

**Chapter 25**

Ron can barely breathe, he's trying to comprehend the scene. Hermione is petrified, she's too frightened and startled by Ron's appearance to try to conceal or fix the cuts. For a moment there is a pregnant silence, too many words and anxious thoughts to say. But then he begins to yell, and Hermione falls onto her bed in exasperation. She's defeated.

"How could you do something so stupid?" Ron grabs her wrists, quickly casting the reparo spell to make the blood disappear. Hermione looks up to see that his face is nearly as red as the blood disappearing from her flesh. He's pissed, and she doesn't blame him.

"I'm sorry, Ron." Hermione sinks her face deep into her pillow. She gives up on arguing, trying to deny that she was indeed self harming. Perhaps, she could have said it was an accident, but would Ron have believed her? Probably not. "I don't know what I was thinking.

"Sorry?" Ron gently moves her into a sitting position. Suddenly changing his tone of voice. It isn't angry as much as cold and icy, like any feelings he has are being pushed deep beneath the surface so that he won't freak out on her. "Hermione you cut yourself. You need help.."

Hermione furrows her eyes, "You just don't understand."

"No, I don't." Ron spits, "So make me."

"Can't you just leave me alone Ron?" Hermione begins to yell. Once again, she defends her coping mechanism, preserves them, by pushing away the closest person in her life. "Or hasn't it gotten through your thick head that I don't want to see you. I don't want you in my life."

"Really?" Ron pulls away, and Hermione instantly regrets her words. She wants Ron, but she also really wants to cut and be skinny. Is that insane? Yes, she knows it is. Here eyes meet Ron for the first time in this unconventional, awkward discovery. He stares at her for a moment, eyes full of agony burning into her soul. "Is that how you really feel?"

She can't respond.

"Am I really the reason you do this to yourself?" He asks, "Because if I am, all you have to do is tell me. I'll disappear from your life forever."

Hermione shudders; she doesn't want Ron to go, not anymore. "That's not what I want," she cries, "I just wish you didn't have to see me like this all the time. I know the only reason you ever talk to me is because you feel obliged to because I'm… well because I'm sick."

"That's not true," Ron spits out.

"Really?" Hermione cries, "Because I'm pretty sure you didn't give a rat's ass about me until you were worried about me. You never talk to me about anything else."

"That's not true," Ron repeats.

"It is," Hermione turns around.

"Hermione," Ron whines, "I'm here in spite of 'all this'; I'm here because I love you and I miss the way things used to be. I'm here because I used to know a girl who was everything I ever dreamed of. She was the smartest witch that ever walked these halls, she had a heart of gold and an amazingly, contagious spirit, she was the most morally upright person I've ever met, and she had this confidence that took my breath away. Not to forget the fact that she _was_- I mean _is_ a total babe. And I know that you're still that girl."

"'Mione," Ron continues, "I know you're still _that girl_. You just have a disease. It's the anorexia and it's taking over your life. And I think it's time that you get help for it. I think that 'all this' has gone too far. I miss 'you' Hermione. And when you get out of St. Mungo's then maybe we can start over with the girl I- "

"What?" Hermione shrieks, "What do you mean when I get out of St. Mungo's? I'll let you ramble on about all your nostalgic nonsense, but when you start talking about me going to _Hospital_, then you've overstepped your line."

"Look at yourself Hermione," Ron tries to remain calm, "You're a skeleton, nothing more than bones and skin. You look like you haven't eaten a good meal in years. You've got no energy and your always tired."

"I'm eating!" Hermione screams, "You make sure of that! Every day you pile it on with those fatty foods."

Ron ponders over telling her that Harry just filled him in on the apparition and weights, but he wisely decides to hold on to that information at the moment. Right now he just needs to get Hermione some help. "And you still look like a walking skeleton; you look like you're going to die."

"_Thanks_," her voice is filled with a concoction of anger, fear, sadness, desperation and, at the moment, sarcasm.

Ron ignores her, "And to top that, you're cutting yourself!"

"So what?" Hermione narrows her eyes, "That has nothing to do with anything."

Ron mutters a four letter word, "You cut yourself! It's insane. It's-"

"Shut up Ron," Hermione steps forward, "If you tell anyone I'll…"

"You'll do what Hermione?"

"I'll tell the ministry about your plans," She smiles maliciously.

"What plans?" He looks at her with fake confusion.

"The plans you've been discussing with Harry and Neville nonstop," Hermione is frustrated; clearly she had nothing on him. "In the eye's of B.B.'s soul."

"Not sure what you're talking about, but you're free to discuss this conspiracy with Kingsley. I'm sure he'll completely listen to a committed witch."

"What?" Hermione cries.

"Merlin's beard. This is mental, 'Mione. We're going to Madam Pomfrey's and that's final," Ron says with a voice she'd never heard him use before, "I'm done waiting for you to decide when you'll get better."

"Ron, you know I'm trying. I'm eating. I'm going to therapy. I'm making an effort to get better."

Ron slumps over by, "I know, but this has gotten out of control."

Hermione swallowed, "Just please don't make me go to St. Mungo's. I swear I'll get better. I'll eat and I'll never cut myself again. I swear."

He shuts his eyes, wishing he could disappear. No, cross that, wishing that Hermione's disorder would disappear so things could be happy and blissful like they used to be without all the stress. "I've got to tell someone about this, I'm sorry. You've got to get some help."

Hermione nods her head, and they sit there for a little while.

"So, why do you do it, anyways?"

"I don't know Ron," she begins to cry, a steady stream of tears squiggling down her cheeks, "I just do."

"Something's got to be causing you to hurt yourself," He says, "I mean sane people don't just wake up one day and decide their going to draw a knife to their skin."

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, "Are you implying that I'm insane."

"No," his raw sarcasm and disgust sting her, "It's perfectly normal to starve and cut yourself as activities of enjoyment."

"Thanks Ron," She shakes her head, barely able to breathe as she choked on the tears in her throat, "Way to be sensitive."

"Well what do you expect me to say? I'm not going to condone this. I won't. You need help."

She wiggles her toes and stand up, getting off the bed. He follows, standing next to her. "You want to know the answer to why? Then let me explain, and don't interrupt or laugh." Ron nods his head, he'd never dare. "It started after we broke up. I missed you, and nobody would write. It was so lonely."

"I didn't mean to start _cutting,_ It was sort of an accident. I was in the shower shaving my legs, when I had a little knick, and it felt _good, like everything bad just disappeared_. I was crying then, it had been two weeks and not a single person had written. Nobody cared about me. And I realized that I was all alone in the world. So without even thinking I just pressed my razor sideways on my calf and began to drag it up my legs. And I just sat there and felt it relieve all the pain for a good hour before I cast a spell to fix it."

"You're wrong," Ron says, emotionlessly, "I care about you. Loads of people do."

"You didn't last summer. Nobody did." Hermione swallows, unable to contain her tears "And the worst part was, I had to deal with all these stupid nightmares and flashbacks of Bellatrix and Malfoy Manor, and no one was there to talk to. You had Harry, he had you. I had no one."

"I'm sorry," Ron sniffles, a tear running down his cheek. Men weren't supposed to cry, but f**k, this was Hermione, the love of his life. She was cutting herself and starving herself, and it was his fault. He should've been there, he should've gotten over his pride, and he should've written her the first day back, begging for her forgiveness. But he didn't, and, now, because of _him_ she was seriously ill. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there 'Mione. If I had known-"

"No, it's not your fault," Hermione bites her lip, wiping the single tear from his face. "Don't cry, Ron. I can't bear it."

"This is why I never told anyone. I didn't want them to blame themselves, she continues, as Ron recomposes himself.

"Hermione," Ron sighs, "You do want to get better don't you? You said you didn't. But you know it's wrong. Don't you?"

"Sometimes, and sometimes 'no'."

Ron is startled by this answer. Sure he suspected that the whole thing was a sham, but to hear her say that all the perceived efforts weren't always authentic frightened him. When had Hermione became so deceitful? And why was she still unsure that she should get better? Hadn't Pansy's death solidified that not treating her disease could result in horrific thing? "You could end up like Pansy, 'Mione. You could die."

Hermione ponders this for a moment, "I know, but maybe I want to."


	28. Chapter 26

A/N Sorry if this is completely rubbish. I have my first day back at school tomorrow so I have to catch up on all my procrastinated summer work today. So I didn't have as much time to write and revise this. Consequently it's short, and not as good as I want it to be. But whatever. Please review.

Chapter 26

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. _Hermione scolds herself. Here, she'd been trying to convince Ron to not turn her in. She'd been in PR manipulation mode, thinking that she'd tell him a couple juicy little feelings, and then he'd think he could fix her by himself. But she'd told too much, and she knew her destiny was sealed. How could she say that she might want to die? Why was she so stupid?

"You don't mean that?" Ron says instantaneously.

"I'm sorry," She bows her head, "I shouldn't have said that."

"If it's true than I'm glad you did," Ron says, "But, why would you want to die?"

Hermione pauses for a moment. She needs a distraction. "Maybe I'll answer your question if you answer a few of mine."

"This isn't about me," Ron takes his fingers, and gently grazes Hermione's cheek, "I'm not the one who said they might want to die."

Hermione mentally curses. Why had she done it? Why couldn't she keep her big, fat mouth shut, for once?

"I'm tired of the interrogation, Ron." She says suddenly, "You keep making me confess my deep dark secrets and feelings, so now you can confess yours."

"Fine," Ron sputters out, clearly vulnerable from the shock, "What do you need to know."

She thinks for a moment. Not sure, how many secrets Ron actually has. Then she decides on the mysterious auror business that has bothered her for months. She knows it has to do with Barry Buddleman, the Death Chamber and Sirius. And there's the riddle too. But she wants to know, she needs to know that what Ron and Harry are going to do is safe.

"I want to know about the gate, Barry Buddleman, and Sirius."

Ron glares at her for a few moments, "You're not going to be happy."

"I could've said the same for your questions."

"Alright," Ron sighs, "Neville found a prophecy one day that talked about how every 100 years the gate opens up. You can go in, and if you leave within the hour, you'll be fine. And anything you're touching when you leave comes with you."

"But nobody knows for sure."

"No," Ron says, "And if you did go in, there could be horrible things in there. Nobody knows what's beyond the gate- if anything but death."

"And you and Harry are going to go in to get Sirius?"

"That's the plan," Ron says.

Hermione began to cry. "When?"

"You can only find out in the eyes of Barry Buddleman's Soul."

"And what does that mean?" Hermione asks.

"We're not exactly sure," Ron wipes the tears from Hermione's face, "And now I've upset you."

"I was already upset," She whispers.

"I know," Ron says, cradling her in his arms, "I know."

But then Hermione stands up, and sit on the window sill, and opens it up. Ron looks at her quizzically. "It's snowing outside, do you want to freeze to death?"

The moment he says the last word he bites his tongue, and Hermione feels relieved that it is not only her who can't watch her mouth. "It's just for a moment. It's a little bit too stuffy in here."

Ron wants to disagree, but chooses to ignore it. Hermione does strange things, lately, and right now there are more important matters to discuss. He opens his mouth, "So why would you want to die?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Hermione cocks an eyebrow, "If you haven't noticed. I'm sort of miserable."

"You could get better," he says, "A couple months, and you could be happy again."

"You don't know that," Hermione says, "It could get worse."

"Well that's an optimistic attitude," Ron's naturally, sarcastic remark is a welcome familiarity.

"Ron," she says inching closer to the window, "Look at my options in life. Get better, and, therefore be fat and miserable, or stay skinny and die happy."

Ron's face turns red, "That's sick, Hermione. If you just knew how sick that was."

Hermione rolls her eyes and looks down at the long drop below her. "You shouldn't sit so close to the edge," he begins to panic, realizing what might happen, "You could fall."

"Maybe I want to," She says dryly, and Ron freezes up. _Holy Shit._

"We're going down to Madam Pomfrey's, now!"

She sighs, "No, Ron, that really isn't going to happen"

Ron feels his throat tighten up, "and why's that?'

Hermione pulls her wand out, "Because I'm not going, and if you try to make me. I'll jump out of this window."

Ron stares for a moment, unable to breathe. "Hermione, please, don't. I love you." He feels his hand move to his pocket quickly grabbing his wand, and pulling it out as quickly as possible.

"Put it away Ron," She chides, "You know I could out duel you."

"Come on Hermione," he breathes heavily, "Just come in. We don't have to go to Madam Pomfreys. Just get away from the window."

"I don't trust you, Ron," She begins to cry, "I'm not moving from here until you leave my room."

Ron weighs his options, his seemingly limited options. On one hand, if he startles Hermione or tries to push Madam Pomfreys she could fall to her death. On the other hand, if he leaves her, Ron is certain, she'll jump or do something stupid.

And just like that his plan is made. "I love you," he says, before turning and walking towards the door.

"I love you too." Hermione whispers, choking on tears. Ron pauses, and turns to look at her. He sucks in a mouthful of air, and then thrusts his wand toward Hermione, "Petrificus Totalus."


	29. Broken Ron's Epilogue

**Sorry for the long lapse. Ecspecially after last chapter. I had Mono and became totally useless at all my attempts. You should've seen my shoddy attempts. Anyways here's Ron's epilogue. Next will be Hermione's epilogue. And, then, its over. I might cry. If there is enough interest, I'll write a sequel! Also thanks to everyone whose reviewed so far- 100 reviews _Yeah! _That made my day. D**

**Epilogue-Ron**

She's a beautiful disaster, withering away like a wilted flower, broken and tarnished.

She wanted love, and her wish was granted. She wanted happiness, but it never came. She wanted friendship, but she denied it. She wanted control, and she lost it. She wanted stability, but it destroyed everything. She wanted peace, and now, like a corpse, she has it.

Ron holds his ex-girlfriend's hand, as the gentle sounds of a magical contraption inflate her longs_. It had been a heart attack_, the healer explains, _caused by her panic attack and her already weakened cardio muscles_. The healer stresses that _it isn't his fault. _Hermione's heart was already starting to fail when Ron petrified her; that just happened to be the final snap. A little burst of excitement, and her failing body couldn't handle it.

But Ron feels guilty; he'll always feel guilty—about everything. This is Hermione, his Hermione, otherwise known as the most amazing girl in the world. And she's laying here, in front of him in a coma. The inexplicable feeling of blame and frustration fall upon him with a resounding suddenness.

Ron sighs. He should've detected the lies, the falsehoods and fake smiles. Hermione was brilliant, yes. But he should've known it was all a big façade that would crumble at any moment. He'd been suspicious; how could he not? It was all too fast—the recovery, he means. One minute she's sneaking out to exercise and denying that she has any problem, and the next she's eating 5 full-sized meals a day and completely content with her life. All the while, she was looking worse and worse, the skeletal ridges of her body loosely holding up her school robes and oversized sweaters. How had he ever believed she was 100 pounds? He had been too naïve and trusting.

And, then, the incident. Ron should've known that she'd do something like that- threaten suicide. He should've known not to throw the spell at her, not to petrify her, when her body was already so weak. "It was necessary," Ginny had whispered in his ear in the hospital wing at Hogwarts as Madam Pomfrey preformed charm after charm on Hermione's lifeless body, "I would've done the same thing."

Necessary or not. It doesn't change the fact that Hermione is currently unresponsive in the sterile sheets of St. Mungo's. It doesn't change the fact that Ron thinks it's completely his fault. He blames himself because he has to make sense of this, because there has to be a culprit, a villian.

"She brought this on herself," a bitter and grieving Malfoy said to him in the waiting room of St. Mungo's, a few moments ago, "It was self-inflicted."

"Shut up," Ron had hissed, "You know absolutely nothing."

"Granger decided to starve herself. Those house elves she loves so dearly weren't on strike. She had plenty to eat."

"She's anorexic. It's a disease. It's not her fault."

"No," Draco had said glumly, "Cancer's a disease. Wizards' toe is a disease. Not eating is just stupid."

"Shut up, Ferret!" Ron lurched from his seat, "Why are you even here?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders, and shoved out a mumbled response. "Was Pansy's friend."

Ron nodded his head curtly and regained composure, "Fine, but you're not visiting her room. I don't trust you."

Draco had agreed, and Ron was, nevertheless, thankful. The last thing Hermione needs is to wake up to that obnoxious pure-blood elitist spewing out insults and judgments over her predicament.

Ron smiles when he remembers Harry punching Malfoy in the nose, a few moments after, when they learnt that Malfoy had known about Hermione's "tricks" for weeks. It was bittersweet because both Harry and Malfoy were promptly escorted from the grounds, leaving Ron and Ginny without a crucial member of their support system.

He feels bad for Harry, waiting at Hogwarts in the empty dorm room, wondering if his friend was still alive. Ron shudders. He can't think about those kinds of things. Hermione will survive; she has too. She won't end up like Pansy. She won't be another statistic.

Mrs. Weasley puts her hand on his shoulder, "Oh, Ron. Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped."

_It wasn't you're business._ _It wouldn't have changed anything._ But he doesn't say those things; he never would. Talking back to Mrs. Weasley would be like a horrible suicide mission. Ron cringes when he realizes that Hermione was going to commit suicide. _She was going to kill herself._

"Her Parents will be here soon, son," Mr. Weasley says with a small smile, "A muggle perspective."

Ron winces. He really doesn't want his father interrogating the Granger's when their daughter is in the hospital with an eating disorder, in a coma. He prays, that his dad refrains from expressing his overwhelming curiosities and fascination with the non-wizarding world to get the best of him. There is a time and a place. "Dad…"

"Yes… Yes…" his father echoes, "I know. I wouldn't think of it. Not after Fred."

The word. The name. And suddenly his mom bursts into tears. "Oh Molly," Mr. Weasley says, wrapping his arms around his wife. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

His parents swiftly leave the room after the outburst, and Ron is left to deal with the grief of his dead brother, and the anguish over his ex-girlfriend's anorexia.

He'll see Hermione through this, through every day of recovery. He knows at times she'll push him away and fight for the coping mechanisms she's relied on. It'll be tought and emotionally draining; it won't happen overnight. But it'll be worth it to see her better. Because he misses her. He loves her. And the thing he longs for most in the world is to see the love of his life happy and healthy. He'll do anything for it.

One day, he knows it'll happen. She'll be "cured". But he's read enough books and flipped through enough pamphlets to know her eating disorder will always sort of be there, waiting to return. He knows she might one day relapse, and have to fight the urge to return to her former addictions. He knows it'll be a life long battle, but he's a Gryffindor and he's not afraid. And he knows it'll be a while before she should really get "involved" with anyone. So he'll wait and be there for her through everything. Because Ron made a promise to her that no matter what he'd never leave her again, and the truth is he'd never want to.


	30. Broken Hermione's Epilogue

Hermione's Epilogue

She wakes up, with Ron by her bedside. He tells her he loves her. He tells her he'll wait for. He tells her to get better. He tells her they're sending her to a special wing for girls like her. He loves her, he says. She has to get better. He needs her.

And through this heart-felt speech, Hermione can think of nothing else but the impending doom of getting fat. Realizing how disturbing that is, she questions if maybe she does belong in a psych ward.

After the healers drag Ron away, Hermione is left alone in her room to cry. And for the first time in a long while she wonders if it was all worth it- being skinny. She shuts her eyes and remembers life, two years ago. She was top of her class, well-liked, and happy. It's strange how happiness has become such a foreign concept to her. Life was easy back then when she liked hanging out with friends and wasn't afraid to eat a salad.

Then she remembers life a year ago, spending every night wondering if they'd make it the next day and crying herself to sleep because Ron had just left her. But still she prevailed, fixating on the mission at hand to avoid dealing with the heartbreak. Harry helped too; they'd talk about it- the guilt, the regret, the rejection. He was her lifeline.

Then she thinks of life six months ago, with all the tragedy and death. Harry was in a funk and her parents were still missing, but then she at least had Ron. He was the rock holding her together, the love of her life that she had finally accepted. So when he left, it made sense that she'd fall apart. She'd lost too much already.

But Hermione knows it can't all be about Ron. She's stronger than that. She's not one of those girls who loses it all because of a guy. No, it has nothing to do with Ron.

Unfortunately, she still doesn't know why she does this. Ron's insisted it's a control issue, the mind healer had boiled it down to post traumatic stress from the war, and Ginny blamed it on society's pressure for witches to be thin. But Hermione isn't sure. To dumb her actions down to some subconscious mindset seems unfair and frankly belittling. Maybe she just wanted to be thin, maybe she just took it to far.

Yes, Hermione admits to herself she'd taken it too far.

It had started as a diet to get Ron back, to prove him wrong. _Well, where's Ron now? _ Gone. And, why? Because of her eating disorder. She just hopes it's not too late, too late to fix what has been broken. If Ron waits for her like he promises, if he loves her like he claims, then maybe Hermione will survive, and maybe they can finally have that happy ending that they were robbed of.

So she decides to get better. If not for herself, than for Ron. So that should be the end of that, except life is never that simple.


	31. Note about the sequel

Hey guys!

So I love that some of you stuck with this story till the end! Every review, fave, and alert made me jump for joy. They helped me get through all the writer's block and doubt over the story.

But there are still some loose plot lines that I need to tie up. So, if any of you haven't noticed, I already started the sequel. It's called Fix Me, and it will be chronicling Hermione's recovery, her relationship with Ron, and some other stuff. If you liked this you'll probably like the sequel. I've already got two chapters up :), but it only has three reviews :(. So please, go check it out, fave, and review, and you will honestly make my day.

Also, I'll be uploading the original "Broken" as a seperate story, pretty soon, the one before all the editing annd changes, because apparently some people liked it better. I'll title it "Broken original" so as not to be confused with this one. So, yeah, just thought I'd let you all know about that.

And I'm also looking for a beta, not exactly sure how to do it, but... if anyone's interested let me know.

Alright, well thanks so much!

-Umpadee


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